


Dislocated Souls

by LonelyAgain



Series: Diary of a Dislocated Knife-ear [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Character Death, Civil Rights, Diary/Journal, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Insert in Thedas, Modern Girl in Thedas, Physical Abuse, Profanity, mostly canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-09
Updated: 2016-06-30
Packaged: 2018-07-14 01:58:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 71
Words: 87,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7147562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LonelyAgain/pseuds/LonelyAgain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When the breach opened in the sky, spirits and demons were “driven mad” as they came through.  No one mentioned all the people who were driven mad at the same time.  Except they weren’t, you know.  They were just dropped here, into a place most people know nothing about.  People like me.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Day 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A flow of words. Unedited. Constructive criticism is welcome.

Day 1:

He doesn’t understand what his machinations have done.  He ripped apart more than just Thedas in his arrogance. That poor Vashoth, the Templars put a blade through her when she started talking about computers and demanding her cell phone.  A dwarven man in the tents rocks and mutters during the waking times, and in his sleep he screams his name: David Lang.  The human lady in the “good” tents keeps asking if anyone’s ever heard of coffee in a New York accent.  At least “common” is English.  There’s a poor guy over there almost catatonic after trying to communicate in what I think is Mandarin.  I can’t help him with that.  I’m lucky, I think.  I’ve played this video game.  I know where I am, and who I am.  The wiki said that spirits and demons were “driven mad” as they came through the breach.  No one mentioned all the people who were driven mad at the same time.  Except they weren’t, you know.  They were just dropped here, into a place most people know nothing about.

I wish I came through as human, though.  This “knife-ear” shit is worse than the black and white wars of the 1950s.  I’m having trouble with the whole “looking people in the eyes” and “standing up straight” thing that I was taught in the Navy.  Apparently we knife ears can get hit for doing that.  Ask me how I know.  The one thing I can do is keep my mouth shut, in general. I’m going to shut it now and not speak unless I have to. They look at you really strange here if you talk about driving someone up a wall or similar.  Half the language we use on a regular basis is weird to Thedasians.  Anyway, I’m not going to get back to my air conditioning and central heating and FLUSH TOILETS by being maudlin.  I’ll just say it’s a damn good thing that I was in the Girl Scouts as a kid. And my family.  I miss my little girl. It’s only been one day since the breach.  I hope she’s okay.  Anyway, enough wallowing. It’s not going to help. 

Nobody’s watching him.  Now that the poor man fell out of the Fade with the mark on his hand, no one is watching the wolf.  He’s the only mage with full run of the camp.  Oh, sure, he spends hours next to whomever Trevelyan.  Does he know what he’s done?  He knows it went wrong.  Does he understand how wrong?  I spent a lot of time romancing him when I played the game.  I don’t think he ever considered that more than his world could be affected.  Well, good news, nerds of home.  It apparently is a multiverse. Shit, I don’t know why I’m writing this.  No one who will understand will ever read this unless I can somehow get back home.

 

 

 


	2. Day 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Never mind. I know why I’m writing this. It’s to keep myself sane.

Day 2:

Never mind.  I know why I’m writing this.  It’s to keep myself sane.  I went looking around in the Chantry today.  I can’t believe the mages and warriors of this era can’t pick door locks.  I can’t pick locks.  Or so I thought.  Apparently locks here in Thedas are AWFUL.  I can practically stick my arm in the keyhole, and I’m probably the fattest elf to ever exist here.  Chests are a different story.  I can’t seem to get those.  Probably need to “level up”.  LOL. You know how in the game, there’s nobody in the main area Chantry until after you stop the breach the first time?  That’s true.  Weird.   You’d think there’d be tons of people here.

The food sucks.  The beds (hah!) suck, for those people allowed to have them.  Sleeping on the cold ground sucks.  The smell sucks.  As a knife-ear I’m damn near invisible, which may not suck.  Thinking better today, and realized that my asking for paper and charcoal might have been a little bit hasty.  Same with playing with locks.

Worst thing is that the air itches.  I think it’s the air.  Something keeps prickling my skin at random times.  Like that sudden goosebump thing on your arms, except everywhere.  I can deal with everything else by pretending I’m working a renfaire or camping or some such, but how do you deal with itchy air?

Mr. Trevelyan is still down in the dungeon, and Egghead goes down there for a few hours three or four times a day now instead of hiding out there 24-7.  Bet the poor man is about to wake up.  Leliana and Cassandra are going to scare the shit out of him.  Cassandra’s just mad, but Leliana is going to use that to her advantage.  The good cop, bad cop routine is older than dirt.

You know the part I really hate?  There are no kids in the game.  You never think, “hey, Haven is burning, better make sure those kids in that building over there make it out as well as the bartender and the apothecary.”  I saved friggin’ Threnn every time, but I didn’t know about the kids.  There are a lot of them here.  Many of the people coming to this the conclave brought families and servants.  Know what they mean when they talk about servants most of the time?  Kids.  The messengers around here are not grown men and women, they’re 13 year olds.  Sure, there are not very many under 3s or elementary schoolers, but still, 13?  It’s a kid.

Someone saw me writing in this journal.  Apparently they thought I was just asking for paper and charcoal for fun.  I’ve been told to report to Minaeve at first light tomorrow.  Guess I’m going to be an intellectual.  Good thing I’ve got a degree in accounting, huh?

Miss you baby.  I hope I'll be back soon.


	3. Day 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I should have played a little more stupid. Most people in this world probably can’t do this kind of thing. Most of us in the modern world of Earth have a smattering of vast amounts of knowledge. We may not be able to hunt our dinner or raise a barn, but literacy is near universal.

Day 3:

Well, shit.  I’m glad I was smart and hid this thing near Taigen’s notes.  All my other writing was confiscated for review.  Minaeve wasn’t waiting for me.  An agent was.  They took my other journal, the one where I was keeping my official to do lists (because people ask us knife-ears to do random stuff all the time).  It’s being “investigated”.  Okay.  Whatever. 

I was subjected to probably the most in-depth assessment of my smattering of words I’ve ever seen.  No.  I don’t speak “Orlesian”.  I do, however, have the ability to ask where the bathroom is, count to 5, and say I don’t speak French in French.  They don’t understand the word “ _le français_ ”, but yeah, you guys know it’s French.  Oh, and “Voulez-vous coucher avec moi ce soir" is a thing here.  Makes young men blush when chubby female elves say it, at least.

My years of taking Spanish and the few years of living in the Midwest are going to come to bite my butt, I can see.  Antivan?  It’s just REALLY BAD Spanish, mixed with some worse Italian.  Really bad.  Like, the grammar is HORRIBLE.  And they think *I’m* the one getting it so wrong.  I don’t speak it well, but I think I made a mistake when I could (mostly) read it.  It’s like most game lingos, based on bastardized Latin-esque words. 

And don’t get me started on Tevene.  Ancient Tevene is sort of like the English of the modern world.  Our English is sort of based on Proto-germanic and steals from everyone including latin.  In Thedas, Tevene is the language that beats up other languages and rifles through the pockets for extra words and random bits of spelling and grammar.  Ugh. It has just enough familiar words to go way wrong, I think.

Math test was easy.  Addition, subtraction, multiplication, division.  They didn’t go into exponents or anything complicated.  Basic geometry, and it looks like Trig may be completely unknown among regular people.  Guy couldn’t keep up.  Also, made the mistake of mentioning that it would be easier with a calculator.  Then I rephrased as abacus.  He looked at me a little funny.  An abacus might be a thing in this world.  If not, I’m going to be making one.  Hope I live long enough to see Dagna.  Bet the Dwarves have something along the lines of a slide rule and an abacus.  She might even be able to get me a four-function calculator.  They’re a dollar at Walmart, but would probably be priceless here.  She’d probably also understand basic electronics, so I might be able to get radio or something.  Maybe Thedas is the backward step-cousin of the entire world, and they actually have decent tech somewhere else.  Not going to mention guns.  That’s the last thing I need to deal with.

It wasn’t until about three quarters of the way through the time I spent with the Agent that I thought I should have played a little more stupid.  Most people in this world probably can’t do this kind of thing.  We in the modern world of Earth have a smattering of vast amounts of knowledge.  We may not be able to hunt our dinner or raise a barn, but literacy is near universal.  We’ve almost all got a good idea of math and languages.  High school and all that.  Most of us can do rudimentary cooking, have exposure to music, and art.  A vast amount of us play or sing or create on some level.  And if we’re computer geeks?  We’re dealing in Pascal and Fortran and C+, scripting languages, Java, HTML?  That’s a ton of languages right there.  Heck, just modding for the Elder Scrolls teaches you two proprietary scripting languages.

Regrettably, I don’t think that’s the case here, and I might have screwed up.  At least I failed geography, right?  But I knew how to use a compass, read a map, and the idea of magnetism.  Biggest screwup?  When I was asked if I was a mage, I said “Not that I’m aware of.”  Shit.  You know the weirdest thing?  No one asked me my name.  Nobody has asked my name.  Not one person in 3 days.  Is that weird or what?  Maybe it’s just because my ears point.  I’m going to have to find some sort of mirror soon.

Playing dumb is not something that comes easy to me.  I don’t know how old this elf body is, but I’m over forty in real life, and I’m too old for those kinds of games.  I may be in a bit of trouble, so I’m going to leave this here, and head for the tavern.  Maybe if I listen for something modern Earthian (hehhe), I’ll find another displaced Earthling.  There are 7 of us now.  Two of us are Brits, oddly enough.  That’s a lot of people from that tiny Island.  Two Americans (including me), I think I mentioned the Chinese guy, and the last one is probably Norwegian or some such.  I am actually quite surprised we don’t have any native Spanish speakers in our number.  That’s a large group of people for no one to have been displaced from. Anyway, most of us speak at least some English, so I’m going to let them know what happened and say my (potential) goodbyes.

Goodnight, baby.  My heart hurts to be away from you.


	4. Day 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maybe if they kill me here, I’ll go home?

Day 4:

He woke up.  Cassandra paraded the future inquisitor past the throngs of people.  You really don’t see just how many people there are in the game.  Probably limitations of the game engine and production schedules.  Guy looks terrified.  They don’t show the abuse, either.  She seemed kind of protective when I played, but dude’s been hit by three tomatoes so far.  She doesn’t even notice.  At least I know she’s likely to warm up to him.  I hope he’s actually a Thedasian, and not a displacement like I am. 

Most of the combatant types have headed out this morning, before he woke up.  Found out why Solas and Varric were out in the fighting.  They were clearing the way for Mr. Trevelyan.  Apparently the original plan was to shove the guy up to a rift and see what happened.  Varric wasn’t supposed to go, actually.  Cassandra told one of the milling soldiers to gather a team and get Solas to the nearest rift. The plan was probably to keep the unknown magic and the unknown mage apart so they couldn’t chat and make plans before the crisis situation.  Wonder if that was Nightingale’s idea or hers.  It’s smart.

Anyway, after Cassandra stalked back into the Chantry, Varric volunteered to be one of the group.  Looked like two first level recruits, Solas, and Varric.  I hope Varric wasn’t hanging out in the chantry when I was investigating locks earlier.  I forgot that rogues disappear like they have an invisibility cloak from Harry Potter when they stealth in Thedas.  Now I’m wondering how many people were in that “empty” chantry main room.  It also explains how annoyed she was at him at that first rift.

At least no one is going to worry about me today.  Seriously considering running, but I know there’s really nowhere to go.  Maybe if they kill me here, I’ll go home?  A girl can hope, right?  Really miss my kid.  I went over to the children’s barracks and played with the kids there, to try to make myself feel better.  Play with kids because you miss one, right? I sang Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star and a little boy recognized it.  Oh my God, there are displaced children, too.  He’s from the U.S., but his father’s stationed in Germany. In 1960.  My heart hurts.  I made a mistake there, too.  All the kids and at least one adult heard at least portions of our conversation, and he talked about Superman.  My ass is so grass, unless I’m the luckiest person this side of the rift.

I miss my little girl.


	5. Day 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He’s scary. Really scary.

Day 5:

He did it.  Not that I had any doubts.  Really, when in the game did the guy ever fail to stabilize the breach enough to find help?  It’s the very beginning of the prologue, for heaven’s sake.  They carried him back here to Haven, and moved him to a sturdy building.  You know which one.  I was helping by carrying towels for the bathhouse when I got snagged to deliver an armload to his quarters.  “Hey Rabbit!  Get those towels over here!” Accompanied by a grab of my arm and frog-marching me to the hut, of course.  Because we fat girls love being manhandled by people three times our size who are armed and armored.  The guard manhandling shoved me toward the door, but not really hard.  As I walked in with my burden, I got a real good look at Inquisibutt.  That guy is STACKED.  Wiry, though.  Bet he’s a rogue.  Adan and a guy I didn’t know were washing his body on the bed.  He’s pretty beat up, no big surprise.  If I remember rightly, He’ll be out for three days.  I wonder if he’s a believer or if he’ll reject the Herald title.  Won’t make a difference, in the long run.

Anyway, I got the fright of my life.  The door slammed shut behind me.  I whirled around and Mr. Baldy-Egg himself was standing there.  I screamed, because I was actually startled.  Didn’t drop the towels, though.  I bowed, backed up to where the bed was, and set the towels on an empty stool.  I didn’t take my eyes off the scary dude, and he stared at me the whole time.  Thank God he didn’t say anything or stop me from leaving.  I darted past him and opened the door, getting through as quickly as I could. I hope they didn’t need me for anything else, because if I have my choice I’m never going to be in his range again.  I was so scared I didn’t even register his attractiveness, so you people are going to have to suffer. I don’t know if he’s cute or not.  Hopefully I’ll NEVER find out.

He’s scary.  Really scary.  His eyes almost glow, and that itching I told you about?  It was off the charts the whole time I was in that room.  Actually, that’s not quite true.  I didn’t feel itchy until AFTER the door slammed.  I need to find something that will function as an eraser.  Charcoal pencils are all well and good until you need to edit.  I don’t really want to talk about him.

Luckily, if you look like you are both in a hurry and already occupied, people leave you be.  I went out to the logging stand, which is MUCH bigger in Thedasian life, and sat down.  It’s absolutely hilarious that Threnn doesn’t know where this thing is when there are actual chopped logs stacked neatly in the clearing.  I’m sure the big guy will discover this place soon enough.  I bet it’s a test from Nightingale for him, instead of any real need.  I mean, it’s RIGHT HERE. Oh, and there’s no glowy stick thing in the middle of the clearing or anything.  You probably knew that.

One thing. Out here, that itching smooths out to a pleasant hum. I sat down in Lotus (hey, fat people yoga too), and took my deep breaths.  I learned what I know of Yoga from a show on TV, so I don’t have all the fancy vocabulary.  I use it more for meditation and exercise more than anything else.  I’m not a yoga bunny with special pants and fancy mats and stuff.  And I’m not perky.  Ugh.  Cheerleaders.  I’ll tell you, fellow nerdlings, you never get over not being a cheerleader. 

Anyway, as my mind and body calmed, the world got… prettier.  I don’t really know how to describe it.  It’s as if out in the wilderness everything was clearer and brighter and infinitely more colorful, so long as you were calm.  The snow was glittery and beautiful.  (I’m going to have to arrange kohl or sunglasses or something if I’m going to spend much time out here.)  The really weird part was that if I wasn’t careful with my breathing or lost my focus object, the world… wiggled.  I’m really not sure this is a good thing, and I’m going to have to figure this out later, after I find someplace that I’m not going to be discovered.  I’ve studied enough alternative religion to know this is could be bad.

Maybe I could move my blanket into this cabin?  It’s not like anyone else is using it.  Nothing’s disturbed the dust I left untouched on the floor (I climbed on the crates to the right of the door, and am hiding this behind them) or broken the hair across the door.  (Hey, I read.  I may not be some super spy kid or whatever, but I read. My mind’s been searching through my internal book repertoire for useful-but-probably-easy shit for days.)

I hope someone on Earth will read this someday.  Sweet Dreams, mija.  I hope you are doing okay. I’m going to go crazy here.


	6. Day 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remember that line? “If anyone calls you knife-ear, come to me”? Well, turns out it is all propaganda.

Day 6:

The Herald woke up. So much for three days. I must have read the notes wrong. Thank goodness it wasn’t my shift.  I wasn’t the one who spilled the potions.  How many of you realized that poor girl lost 2 days rations for that?  And was moved to the scullery. The bruises from the “imaginary” beating will fade, too.  Yeah.  It’s bad. Don’t know who the Herald really is, but I will say he never checked on her, at least not today.  Neither did Cassandra.  Oddly enough, Seggrit is the one that pulled me aside to see to her.  Threnn’s a bitch, and just stood there while some dude slammed Leorah up against a wall by the hair.  Twice.  Seggrit maybe isn’t as much of an asshole as I thought.  He didn’t interfere, but he snagged someone to take care of her as soon as he could.

I’m still angry.  Remember that line?  “If anyone calls you knife-ear, come to me”? Well, turns out it is all propaganda.  That kind of stuff never touches the inner circle, not even Sera.  Otherwise, Sera’d have done something about Threnn.  It wasn’t until Leorah tried to say something (at Seggrit’s suggestion?) about the abuse that Threnn docked her rations, “for lying”, and reassigned her “where she won’t cause no more trouble”.  We got almost two square feet of bandage material for her from Seggrit, though.  No charge.  He looked upset that she’d gotten in trouble for what he told her to do.

Leorah hadn’t been out past the soldiers.  I dragged her out to the cottage and we put snow on her poor eye.  It doesn’t look like her cheekbone is broken, but the bruising is bad.  The handprints on her arm are purple and swollen.  I think her arm might be cracked, and she’s in no shape to do the scullery thing.  She’s got scrapes all over her face from being rubbed against the chantry wall. Best thing about being invisible and interchangeable is that you can also disappear for a while.  I gave her my rations for the evening, and we’ve moved our stuff in here.  Since I’ve managed to avoid any “official” assignments, I guess I’m doing laundry tomorrow.  She needs to rest and heal.  Hell, maybe I’ll set up my own little alienage out in this stupid cottage.  We need somewhere to be safe.  We’ll drag any displaced who want to come out with us, too.

It’s been less than a week, but I’m not sure I can sit here and do nothing while hoping that I can get home.  It’s just not me.  Hey, I’m fat and lazy, but I’m also smart, mean, and opinionated.  This shit is wrong, and it’s got to stop. I’m not sure I’m going to be able to get home, either.  And if I did, how long would it be?  David Lang was commonly assumed to be a debunked hoax by Palmer, but he was here.  Was.  He took his own life last night.  I know he never got home to his own time.  Maybe it was because he couldn’t dream.  Dreams here help.

Please don’t forget me, sweetheart.  Mommy loves you and misses you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After starting this fic, I went back and looked through Haven. You see not a single elf not attached to Cullen or Leliana. One agent for Leliana is outside the hut you start in. 4, maybe 5 of Cullen's trainees in game are elven. There's no elves in the huts, in the tavern, walking about, nowhere. They're only referenced in dialogue, as servants. Even the cutscenes at Haven lack elves, except for one. Interesting, no?


	7. Day 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> None of the other “non-human” displacements have survived.

Day 7:

Lye soap is the nastiest thing on the planet.  Any planet.  It’s what you get when you have no freaking clue how to make soap and don’t put enough fat in the brew.  My hands are raw and red.  Answered to Leorah all day.  Not one person checked on me about “my” treatment yesterday.  Did get one question from another elf about my lack of bruises.  I told her about the little cottage and that Leorah was resting there, hidden up in the loft.  We may have a third sleeping there with us tonight.  Safety in numbers, right?

Got out to check on her a lot, and shared my rations.  It’s a lot easier to put her up in the loft.  Nobody ever looks up. Nobody looks behind doors either.  Are these people blind? Or just poorly trained?  I am nothing special, and even I check behind every door.  If nothing else, having siblings taught me that.  It’s like these people walk around in a perpetual haze of me-ness and never look around them.  Maybe all people walk around in perpetual me-ness hazes.  I know a lot of people on Earth are blind as bats or dumber than rocks, too.

I talked to the displaced human lady.  She’s being set up as a “real lady”.  She pulled the amnesia card and because the body she woke up in doesn’t have calloused fingers, she’s going to luck out.  She’s waited on hand and foot.  This lady has spent the last few days being spoon fed soup and pampered.  Doesn’t care about coffee now.  New Yorkers.  I know most of them are nice, but there are assholes everywhere.  She didn’t give two licks about Leorah’s issues, and I’m glad I didn’t tell her about our little takeover of the cottage.

None of the other “non-human” displacements have survived.  The Chinese human displacement also didn’t make it.  Can’t find the rest.  Maybe they were evacuated or something.  I’ll check later.  The little boy, Daniel, seems fine where he is.  They take good care of the orphaned human kids.  Too easy to be some noble’s child, I guess.  I wonder if anyone ended up in the wrong gender body.  That would be too weird.

Anyway, my body hurts.  I’m red and scaly and sore.  I desperately need a bath.  I’m so tired I could scream.  Goodnight to whomever might read this.  Goodnight, baby girl.  Mommy misses you.  I hope you are well.


	8. Day 7, Continued

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Snoring sucks.

Day 7, continued:

I couldn’t sleep.  New girl snores.  Leorah’s better.  New girl filched a potion bottle that had a swallow left in it.  Part of me is really squicked out by the idea of backwash from one of those asshole soldiers, but it worked, so I won’t say anything.  Leorah’s going to do her job tomorrow, so I don’t have any specific plans.  I’m thinking about this whole invisible and interchangeable thing.  We really are.  I mean, Leorah’s going to have to claim some sort of allergic reaction yesterday, because she’s skinnier, but only if someone notices she’s not the Fat Girl of Thedas.  I told her to say she’d been itchy and everything swelled up.

I’m going to go up to the tavern and use my eyes and ears for a while.  Maybe I’ll meditate later.  You know, for all the snow, I’m not actually that cold.  Good thing, considering what passes for “adequate” clothing for knife-ear bitches.  We’ll see if this Herald can do anything about it.  Or wants to do anything about it.

Good night, sweetie.  Be good for Grandma, okay.  It’s been a week, and I still don’t know if I’ll ever get home.


	9. Day 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bet the intruder was one of Nightingales. Hope they didn’t notice that three elves are sleeping out here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mention of rape. No details, no information.

Day 8: 

Shit shit shit.  Someone’s been in the cottage while we were gone.  There’s clear female footprints, in REAL BOOTS, sliding through the dust all over the floor.  I’d think it was my housemate, but there’s no toes, and her boots have a huge hole on the bottom.  Or maybe that’s sexist.  Let’s just say small footprints in soft-soled boots.  The hair was moved.  Taigen’s notes are still there.  I took a look at them and copied them on another page.  It looks like it would actually be fairly easy to make that potion.  He’s not finished it, but it looks like a fairly simple tincture.  And this is a breakthrough?  I’m fairly certain now that finding Taigen’s notes for Adan is another test from the Nightingale.  This stuff’s too obvious to be unknown.  That’s two tests. Bet the intruder was one of Nightingale's people.  Hope they didn’t notice that three elves are sleeping out here.

I will say I took a day off today.  I’m tired of running, scrubbing, and fetching.  I’m inherently lazy.  I “borrowed” a book out of the undercroft of the chantry.  That lock was stupid easy, and I’m not a lockpick.  It had footsteps from larger boots in the dirt, so I’m betting I was right and Herald-boy is a rogue.  Also, the papers were rifled through and the chests opened.  And left open.  I’m not a rogue, but like I said, I READ.  Leaving the chests wide open like that is just sloppy. 

Anyway, I snagged what looked like an interesting book.  It’s poetry.  There was one in there I recognized from origins.  It is the Ode to Bees.  Anyway, I thought it’d be a whole book based on the way the game portrayed it.  It was just one poem of many in this book.  The rest of them are interesting.  Most are on magic.  Its light, its use, its loveliness.  Some talk about the feel of it.  I can see why it was locked up.  I hadn’t read anything significant in a week, though, so I was dying to read something. 

All day when I was out in the wild, there was no itchiness.  Maybe I’m getting used to this place.  There’s this buzz, though.  Have you ever taken way too many deep breaths too quickly?  That light-headed but really nice feeling?  Yeah, that.  All day.  Runner’s high with no run.  What’s better?  I didn’t see anyone from the inner circle, but considering I didn’t see anyone else, either, that was okay. 

We added another person to our little alienage today.  A younger man with a look that I don’t like.  Not that I don’t like his looks, but he looks… haunted.  Something bad happened to him.  Considering he wouldn’t remove his shirt, I’m very angry.  Someone beat him or raped him.  Or close to.  Or something.  And it’s fresh.  He’s bone-deep scared of anything moving too fast.  He wouldn’t tell me his name, but I’m going to make sure that “he” is at his job fetching for Harritt tomorrow.  I’ll just mark in as him. 

Oh, yes, they have to sign in and out of work every day.  So glad I am not on any list.  Well, I’m on some list, but since no one outside my little group has asked my name, it must not be a GOOD list. I told my ladies that I wasn’t sure what my name was yet.  I am not yet ready to be counted.  Maybe I’ll tell them my name is Jenny.  LOL.

Goodnight, Angel.  Miss you.


	10. Day 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Okay. Templars are scary sons. Even the lady ones. And screw-ups. Thought I'd be better at this.

Day 9:

Okay.  Templars are scary sons of bitches.  Even the lady ones.  I was doing the forge fetching for Feren, and had to be way too close to those people.  (Oh, he told me his name this morning.  Good thing, because I had to mark the box as him.)  Humans around here are REALLY stupid.  Do I look like a nice Ferelden City Elf boy named Feren?  Come on, BOOBs people.  I’m fat.  I have more boob than probably any elf here.  Maybe half the humans, too. 

I was thinking about that actually.  I keep saying I’m fat, but I’m not fat like I used to be on Earth.  It’s proportional.  Stop thinking of a little bitty elf at 180 pounds.  I’m probably 110?  I can grab a double handful of spare tire and I have a major case of thunder thighs and boulder boobs.  Average elfy is probably 90 pounds dripping, and an A or B cup with no ass.  Could be because they’re mostly undernourished.  The shit they feed us is NASTY. 

Oh, and Leorah says I look like I’m barely twenty instead of my personal forty-plus years.  I don’t like that, actually.  Part of the fun of being older is being able to say stuff like “I’m forty and don’t have to give a shit about that anymore.”  Haven’t shaved my legs in a year.  Couldn’t tell it here, though.  Elves are apparently immune to lady sasquatch syndrome.

Back to Templars.  Scary sons, you know?  I didn’t have to deal with the itchy around them.  It was like bathing in ice.  I actually shivered a time or two.  I really hope they didn’t notice, because I suspect I’m using “extra” senses. It’s like they suck all the warm and happy out of the air.  You can feel them a football field away.  (Yet another idiom I can’t use here.)  The reason I bring it up is that there was this scout, in scout armor and everything, hanging out near the Chantry.  He was icy, too.  And he glared at everyone, including me.  Note to self, stay away from Templars.

About Harritt, though.  I was pleasantly surprised.  Everyone working near him gets treated very well.  He noticed that Feren was missing today, by name, and that I was new.  Luckily he didn’t press for my name when I didn’t answer right away.  Assumed I was scared, I think.  Later, I asked whether he liked working with Feren.  Harritt thinks he makes a good assistant, and asks for him by name.  I tentatively asked if I could talk to him in private, and he pulled me (gently) toward the back, near the fires.  The roar there would prevent eavesdroppers but we were still fully visible.  He then asked if Feren was okay.

Color me surprised!  Apparently he’d heard that someone had “caught” Feren on his way out of the mess tent.  Didn’t have any details, but had been worried when he didn’t show up for work.  I told him that Feren was in a bad way.  He wants to move the guy to the house next to the forge.  I told him I’d address it with Feren and see what Feren wanted. 

I may have been a bit blunt.  I told him that for all I knew, Harritt was the one who hurt Feren.  I wasn’t going to put him in harm’s way.  Dude stiffened straighter than a steel beam.  “I’d not hurt one hair on that boy’s head.  I don’t waste talent, and he’s got it.  You ask him, woman.  You ask him if he wants to come.  Now get lost.  I don’t want to see you until I calm down.”  He had his hand on my arm the whole time, but didn’t squeeze down even when he thought I was insulting him. 

Before I could leave, though, one of the assistants came up to me with a bucket.  It had cooked meat, onion and what looked like carrot, and real bread.  REAL BREAD.  A WHOLE LOAF.  He told me it was for Feren and me, because Feren needs to keep his strength up and I need to be healthy to protect him.  Interesting.  It was more food than I’d had on any three days up to now, EACH. Feren and I shared with the other two girls.

Okay, Harritt is tentatively going on the good list.  Especially since Feren agreed to be moved.  Leorah, Jailyn (yes, the other girl’s name is Jailyn), and I managed to get him over to Harritt’s without much fuss.  Once there, Harritt put him in a real bed!  I wasn’t going to leave until Feren said it was okay, so I got to see Harritt talk Feren out of his shirt.  Someone had held him down and deliberately beaten “elf” into his back.  In purple bruises, now.  I didn’t hear most of the conversation, but it was fairly intense, and I heard enough that I am VERY angry. Far more than a beating went on here.  Something has to be done. What kind of person does that? 

In fact, I said that.  It startled the two men, because they thought I’d left.  Like I’d leave before I was sure Feren was safe.  I said that too, actually.  Dour Harritt actually smiled at me.  He asked me what my name was, and I told him one of my old nicknames.  (From when I was in the service, actually.) I wasn’t thinking.  I don’t think anyone around here has heard of Chrysopal if he hasn’t. It’s just a blue-green opal.  Really.  It matched my eyes, according to my first husband.  And names starting with C or Ch just don’t happen in Elvhen, so it’s unusual on multiple levels.  Screwed up again.  That’s at least 5 in the last few days.

Harritt offered to request me on the roster, and I had to tell him I wasn’t on it.  No one had bothered to ask my name before him, so I never got put on a list and was just doing odd jobs and being the swap-out elf.  He roared with laughter and told me he’d not give me up.  “Every man and woman deserves a rest day.  If you’re doing it, then good on you,” he said.  I left Feren in his capable hands.  Yeah. Definitely on the good list.  Maybe Seggrit, too, but I’m not sure about him.  Not Threnn. 

It occurs to me that I’ve never had to sign out rations.  I can go to the mess and get them without identifying myself.  That’s probably the work of the Chantry, now that I think of it.  One good thing they do, I suppose.

Good Night, Sweetheart.  Mommy misses you.  I’m going to make you proud.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It occurred to me that not everyone knows what a chrysopal looks like. For a good view of what it looks like, try this picture: http://www.steinzeit-mineralien.at/images/p014_1_00.jpg


	11. Day 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You’ve probably already guessed, right? I can do magic! Like real, live magic!

Day 10:

Someone found Taigen’s notes.  We gave up on the dust thing or I might know for sure who.  I swept the cottage out in the morning with a broom I found.  Still hiding our things behind crates.  Heard people stomping around the logging stand, too.  Nightingale’s probably pretty pleased if Herald boy found the notes she planted and told the quartermaster about the logging stand.  The loggers are probably glad to be back to work, too.

I took my book to the far end of the valley back here.  I swear, I get happier and happier and the world gets prettier and prettier the farther away from those Templars I get.  So, I was thinking I’m a mage.  Maybe.  Or a hedge-witch or talented herbalist or something.  I’m feeling SOMETHING, so I’m going to investigate, right?  Well. You’ve probably already guessed, right?  I can do magic!  Like real, live magic! 

But, it’s weird, too, you know?  I’ve seen the mage trees, and nothing I did fit there.  No huge ice slicks, no flashy fireballs.  I lit a candle.  So I have fire.  I cooled my tea, so there’s ice, or maybe that was just the fact that it’s cold out today.  Little magics.  But then I thought about Feren.  And I could FEEL his bruises.  Ow.  Ow ow ow.  Somebody aimed right at the muscles he’d have to use to pump the bellows.  And Jailyn?  She’s got a job where she can sit down.  Know how I know?  Because she hates it.  Her butt hurts after sitting too long.  And poor Leorah.  Her hands are bad.  She went from ladies maid and go getter to scullery.  I’m going to have to get some more of us invisibles to spell her on that.  Her hands HURT.  But that’s not the weird part.

I kind of got a bit angry at Feren’s bruises.  I know, right?  Who wouldn’t.  And I sort of wished that whoever had done it would have hurt his hands just as bad.  And I know that’s not right and all.  But apparently, at some point today, a mid-level soldier had to be taken to the healer’s tent with seriously bruised hands.  Nothing broken or really damaged or anything, but really bruised and hurting. Some rumors about more bruising elsewhere.  Good.  And I was tired.  Like dug a trench after a 10 mile hike after cleaning house all day tired.  But while I was wishing, it was like breathing in that wiggle I saw before, and breathing out SOMETHING.  Truthfully, I didn’t know what had happened.  I was just suddenly really tired and a little dizzy.  Leaning against a tree and doing my yoga breathing fixed it in about 20 minutes.  Not weird tired anymore, not seeing a wiggly world anymore.  Just normal long day tired, and no dizziness.

Everyone’s talking about it.  Some of them are saying it was a magical attack.  I heard one guy at the tavern say it was probably divine justice.  All I know, or they know, for sure is that this guy’s hands suddenly swelled up and turned purple.  He dropped his sword.  Got a nice bash on the shoulder because his guard wasn’t up.  No sword, right?  So purple hands, nasty shoulder bruise, asshole got paid. Wonder if this is how Sera feels when some knob gets what's coming to him.

I checked on Feren, and nothing had changed with him. Still bruised.  But I know one thing.  I’m staying way the hell away from those Icy Templars.  Maybe it wasn’t me.  Maybe it wasn’t my wish.  Maybe it was something else answering the wish.  Dunno, really.  But better safe than sorry.  I’m not making any more wishes that affect people unless I absolutely have to.

You know, it occurs to me that the cottage didn't look all that dusty in the game.  Maybe I was "supposed" to clean it up.  Hey, I'm Canon!

Good night, my sweet.  Mommy misses you.


	12. Day 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Note to self: need more paper and another charcoal stick.

Day 11:

We got two more roommates.  Leorah and Jailyn are still here, Feren’s still at Harritt’s (but he still feels “mine”), and we got two more.  Eadras is an older gentleman with gnarled hands, and Cara is a very young elf from Antiva.  Of course.  Where else could she be from with that name?  She worries me, because she’s all eyes and ears.  Very young, at least in appearance.  Eadras fit in right away. 

We haven’t used the brazier yet, because I’m not ready to announce our little home.  Smoke'll do that. If everyone’s forgotten about this nice sturdy roof, who am I to complain?  So, since I could tell by looking at him that Eadras’ hands were either sore or stiff from the cold, I went out elfroot hunting.  That’s the stuff in healing potions.  How hard can it really be?  I picked probably a hundred of the plants around the hut, and plopped 20 inside.  The rest I took to Adan.  He was overjoyed to see the bounty.  He almost smiled!  I jest, but really, he was pleased to get them. 

If these are so plentiful that I can pick them up by the handful, how come the Inquisition is so low on them?  Every person ought to be gathering this shit as they go about their day.  It’s not like it’s HARD.  It grows around back of every single hut, and climbs like a vine on stonework. I’ll talk to my people.  We can get that sour look off his face, I bet.

Anyway, I stood back and watched as Adan mixed his potions.  Looks like I’ll need elfroot, a mortar/pestle, boiling water, patience, and some clear alcohol.  I originally thought that would be all I’d need, but then my skin started itching really, really badly.  Something twisted in the air, and then Adan strained out the roots and decanted the brew into glass vials.  Well well, who’dathunkit.  Adan would be flabbergasted to know he’s manipulating the fade to make potions, wouldn’t he.  Adan’s a hedge mage, and not even the Templars seem to realize it.  I watched closer on the next batch, taking my deep breaths.  It was like his spirit reached out and squeezed something extra out of the crushed roots.  Adan’s spirit squeezed the root’s spirit at the same time as his hands crushed the roots here in world-prime.  Or whatever the hell it should be called.  Why couldn’t I be in Valdemar?  The magic there makes sense in my head.

When he was done, the roots he’d used already looked very different from the ones he’d prepared.  I don’t mean size or shape.  It was like they were dull copies of their compatriot roots.  They were used up not just physically, but somehow spiritually.  So apparently, Elfroot potions heal because you’re consuming elfroot spirits.  If I had to guess.  This world is weird.  However, I think I can do that.  All I’m missing is the clear spirits.  I doubt ale will work.  I also watched him do the same thing to make a poultice for a burn or bruise.  Can’t really take those out and about because they take time to work, but it would have been wonderful to have on hand for Feren.  Blighters at the med tent wouldn’t even have offered snow, I bet.  They sure didn’t for Leorah.  Poultices wouldn’t be mentioned in game, I guess.   Wait, Origins mentioned a health poultice and the Chargers joke about not eating them.  Still looking for that eraser.

Note to self: need more paper and another charcoal stick.

Going to talk to Flyssa.  Between all of us, we can probably scrape up enough to get a bottle of something clear and strong.  They actually do get wages if they’re on that list and showing up.  Not as much as a ~~shem~~ sorry about that.  My people are rubbing off on me.  I tell them to stop it, and now I’m picking it up.  Ugh.  Name calling is wrong be it rabbit or shem.  It’s not going to serve us to commit the atrocities we face.

Everyone chipped in a bit (except me, since I’m the only one without a “real job”), so that means I’m going to be the front line.  I get to go ask Flyssa if she’d deign to grace us poor knife-ears with a bottle of hooch.  I’m being sarcastic, of course.  I just hope that Flyssa is as nice as Harritt turned out to be.

Oh, Eadras named our hut.  Cottage. Whatever. It's now officially Ethelathe.  I remember that –athe nounified other words, but I don’t know what ethel is.  Probably safe or something.  Wish Elvhen was more like latin.  Then I’d at least recognize roots and be able to guess.  Eadras says it means sanctuary, but that it's not a place.  I sometimes think I can agree with Sera.  Say it straight, right?  How in the hell is the cottage not a place?

Goodnight, honey.  Mommy loves you.


	13. Day 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I made another couple screw-ups last night at the tavern, by the by.

Day 12: 

Yay!  I built a fire out in my little rock corner past the logging stand.  Jailyn got me a dented pot.  Not perfect, but hey, it also won’t be missed.  Flyssa turned out to be rather nice.  She didn’t care who you were as long as you had coin and kindness, so I got the spirits.  Water is plentiful, and I have elfroot.  Gonna make some potion.  If I can.

I’m actually writing this one mid-day.  I’m waiting for water to boil for one.  I have the elfroot peeled and ready on a nice flat rock.  (Eadras gave me a knife.  Looks scary, but it works.  I think Eadras wasn’t always a pleasant old man. Speaks Spanglish/engtalian, as it were.  Bet he’s Antivan just like Cara.  Maybe they’re related?) I’m also waiting for the chill feeling to go away.  Some Templars are hunting ram.  They’ll be done soon, and then I can get to work.  I don’t know how this will go, and I REALLY don’t want those icy fellows to be anywhere near me when I try this.

I made another couple screw-ups last night at the tavern, by the by.  Varric Tethras of the Glorious Chesthair caught me looking at him.  He narrowed his eyes at me.  I’m not sure, but for some reason he doesn’t like me, I guess.  No admiring the chest hair.  Got it.  Did you know he carries Bianca out and about when he’s drinking, too?  Flyssa makes him peace bond her.  Yep, peace bonding is apparently a thing.  Never knew it, but It makes sense. 

Screw-up two: Flyssa couldn’t recognize my accent, and I didn’t recover well.  She asked where I was from.  I said I wasn’t sure.  She told me she couldn’t place my accent, but she’d think about it for me.  She glanced at Varric, too.  Apparently guessing someone’s hometown by their accent is a little bar trick he does for extra coin.  Or drinks.  And he’s better the drunker he is.

Oh, the icy feeling is gone.  I’m going to try this.


	14. Day 12, take two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And the “elfroot tea” was Shiny Glowy!

Day 12, take two:

That was EXTREMELY tiring.  Feren came and found me in the snow.  I was unconscious or asleep and the kettle was cool.  The darling gathered everything up, including me, and delivered the lot back to Ethelathe. (Something tells me there should be an apostrophe or four in that name.) He even brought back the roots and cleared the firepit.  When he was finished, they woke me up. 

Did you know that flicking an elf’s ear is REALLY painful if you do it right?  It’ll perk you RIGHT up.  Better than coffee.  Not.

Anyway, I looked at the roots, and they were dull.  I’ve never been so excited to see dull roots.  The kids didn’t see a difference, but I did.  And the “elfroot tea” was Shiny Glowy!  Hey, maybe Sera could see that the InquisiButt glowed because she’s more elfy-magey than she likes? The kids said it just looked like greenish tea.

Uh, I call them kids, but not Eadras.  Everyone’s calling him Hahren.  They’re calling me Chrissy.  There’s supposed to be an apostrophe somewhere in hahren, too, I think.  I hate not knowing how to spell something.  Yeah.  I’m a grammar nazi.  What of it? (Yet another colloquialism foreign to Thedas.  No Hitler here.  We’ve got Blights, Coryphyface, and Egghead.)

Well, we needed to test out the potion, right?  So I get to be Leorah tomorrow.  She needs a day off anyway.  She promised she’d gather elfroot and anything else she found. My people promised to leave the “tea” alone.  We’ll see how it works tomorrow.  I’m not testing this stuff on someone else.  The salve made from the leaves works, though.  Smear a bit on your skin and the cooling sinks in.  Sort of like Ben-Gay, but less stinky.  Elfroot smells good.

Lastly, we have a few more members of our little family, apparently.  They don’t want to move in, but there’s apparently a great job switch going on tomorrow.  Feren told me that Jailyn is going to be working as a maid in the Chantry, and someone named Mika is going to sew for her.  Some other people whose names I didn’t catch are swapping spots.  A change is as good as a rest, and we’re invisible and interchangeable.  That’s 11 total.  I don’t know who four of them are. 

That’s actually a bad thing, from a certain perspective.  If I’m ever on good terms with the Nightingale, I’m going to have to clue her in.  I wonder if that’s how old Egg-head got his people in.  What’s one elf over another?  It’s worked for our little group so far.  More than I thought, because I found out that Leorah and Jailyn have been sharing their jobs, swapping days.  The elves they work with are catching on, but think it’s funny, so aren’t saying anything.  Jailyn says that there’s a few girls in the kitchen swapping in the sewing room now, too.  I need to get names.  They sound like my kind of people, but I can’t check on them when they’re not here if I haven’t met them.  That’s weird.  I wanted to write “claim” there.  They’re not mine in that way.  We’re all together.

And yes, I’m keeping track of names deliberately.  I’ll not harbor someone who wants to stop the inquisition, and if the Nightingale needs this info, I’m going to have it.  They may be mine, but I won’t deal with certain types of people.  They’ll be not-mine really damn fast.

I’ve been here almost two weeks.  Doesn’t look like more displaced are arriving, and I have been checking on occasion, so I think it’s likely that it all happened at that one moment.  It also doesn’t look good for going home.  Maybe I’ll be able to leave when they seal the breach with the Templars or Mages.

Shit.  Speaking of which, I need to ask everyone to keep a lookout for an influx of one or the other.  I’ll do it tomorrow.

I miss you, darling.  Mommy loves you.  Please don’t forget me.  I’ll come home if I can.


	15. Day 13 and Day 14,  Morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Drunk and new schematics never before seen in Thedas

Day 13:

That’s elfroot ption.  To much. Works good.  No hurt. drunk. Night night baby.

___

 

Day 14, morning

Note to self: less alcohol, more water.  Apparently I was the source of many giggles last night.  And I gave away my journaling.  Did you know that despite the fact that most people are at least semi-literate in Thedas (based on the plethora of notes and such in commoner houses), not one of my roomies can read Common?  Well, I think Cara and Eadras can read, actually.  I think at least Cara lied to me.  Cara’s face sort of wiggled/twisted when she said she couldn’t read, and Eadras said only that he couldn’t read Common.  Wouldn’t tell me what language(s) he could read.

I think I’ll sleep with my back to the wall tonight.  Thing is, I can check on them.  Would I be able to check on them if they were someone else’s?  If they were betrayers?  Maybe I can check on any people I care about.  I don’t know.  Two weeks here, and I’m a paranoid apostate seeing betrayal in every corner.  All I need now is a demon to infest my dreams.  Please, God, don’t read that and decide to mess with me.

And continuing.  The great elf switcheroo went off without a hitch.  No one appears to have noticed that elves are invisible and interchangeable except us elves.  Hard to believe they weren’t doing this before I got here.  Work’s actually getting done more efficiently.  You’d think they’d ask a fellow what they’re good at before assigning them.  Nope.  We’re completely worthless.  Can’t possibly have any skills or specialties.  We acquired a bathtub, by the by.  Had to be mended, but they set it out for scrap and Harritt sent it home with Feren last night.  Yep, Harritt’s a good one.  And he doesn’t know it, but he’s one of us.  He burnt his hand on a piece of hot metal yesterday and I knew when I went out to do my breathing exercises and fat girl yoga.  Feren dosed him with elfroot paste from our own supply.

Staying way far away from Templars.  Weird shit is weird.

Heading out to Adan’s.  Got TONS of elfroot, and something else, too.  Not sure what it is, but it’s not elfroot.  Was in the bottom of a sack sent to the laundry.  He’ll either have a use for it or not, but I’m not messing with it if I don’t recognize it. The Fat Elf of Thedas is not ENTIRELY stupid.  Actually, not as fat.  I lost almost a whole hand-grab of chub when I made that potion.  Magic better not take my boobs.  I like my boobs. 

Heading to talk to Harritt, too.  Have an idea for sunglasses.  Glare is bad, people.

 

 


	16. Day 14, Afternoon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I get angrier every day I'm here.

Day 14, afternoon:

Damn these people.  There are only two elven kids in the dormitory.  Both are orphans.  They sleep farthest away from the fire and they’ve been given substandard clothing.  They had them doing errands.  After talking to them, I stepped in to see Jaidyn in the laundry.  She’s going to pick up a few things that wouldn’t be missed.  I asked her for clean rags, too.  I’m going to work up some first aid kits. 

You know, ancient elvhen might have been immune to cold or whatever, but modern elves aren’t. They need clothes.  Let’s see if anyone notices when the boys don’t come home tonight.  They’re over at Harritt’s right now.  He’s a good man, and they’re warm near the fires. 

He thought my idea about sunglasses interesting.  Apparently no one had put together the idea of colored glass and earpieces.  I also sketched out the Inuit version, with just the slit?  He’s looking to make a prototype of those soon.  I’d forgotten that these people don’t like to learn from each other.  Bet the Avaar or the Dalish have something like these.  Harritt didn’t ask where I got the ideas, either.  Called them “outlandish”.  Wonder what a Ferelden thinks is the outlands.  Maybe if people ask where I’m from, I’ll tell them the outlands.  Should be good for a stare or two, if nothing else.

I took a look at his arm, and rebandaged it with some more elfroot salve.  I suggested he head off to the mage tents for real healing, but he said he was fine.  Feren said it was horribly blistered, but he must not have much experience with burns.  This one is barely going to peel.  Hardly worse than a bad sunburn.  I left a jar with him.  There are so many empty containers being tossed in the garbage.  How can medieval people afford to be so wasteful?  We’ve got stacks of them back at Ethelathe now.

Adan was shocked to get the elfroot.  There was probably twenty pounds of the stuff delivered to him today. This stuff is everywhere.  We’ve probably gotten most of the weed-growth, though.  He asked me to keep it coming, but I saw the Herald mounting up near the stables with Cassandra, Varric, and Solas.  At least the scary people who glare at me are leaving.  Looks like they’re taking a bunch of soldiers with them.  Never thought of that, but it makes sense that they would.  Since they’re heading to the Hinterlands (educated guess, right fellow geeks?), it won’t be long before fighting breaks out among the mages and Templars here.  Not long after that will be Val Royeaux.  We probably have at least a week, but I want us to be packed and ready to go by the time they seal the breach. I have no intention of my people being left behind.

Damn the mages, too.  They’re sitting around with their thumbs up their butts, tending to the soldiers’ bumps and bruises or complaining about something or other.  The food’s bad?  You should see what we invisibles get.  Beds suck?  You got one.  All to yourself.  The circles are gone.  You’re not pampered princes anymore. 

They could be helping Adan instead of whining about the cold. If I can make elfroot potion with no training at all, they can probably churn the stuff out by the barrelful.  And at higher quality with less alcohol, LOL.  Everyone in this age has tunnel vision.


	17. Day 14, Evening

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rules and expansions

Day 14, evening:

Our numbers are up to 16.  3 showed up with their bedrolls to Ethelathe this evening.  He’s got a real shiner, and the ladies are scared of their own shadow.  Have bruises.  Damn soldiers.  So much for the inquisition for everyone, but I knew that.  I wish I had known how bad it actually was on my playthroughs.  I would have been FAR more pro-elf.

We slathered them with elfroot salve in the appropriate places.  I gave one of the ladies a swig of our “special elfroot tea”.  I’ve been keeping it cold with snow and checking it for color changes.  It’s still glowyshiny in the same way, and the color hasn’t turned.  I’m actually a little concerned it might spoil before we use it. How long does this stuff last exposed to the air?  It’s not like I have a plethora of wax-sealed flasks on hand.

There was a scout looking at the elves going into and out of the servant’s tent tonight.  Another was watching the mess tent.  I think Harritt knew something, because he sent extra food home with Feren.  I don’t know if they’re looking for me, but I can’t take a chance on being the stand-out elf.  It’s actually becoming important that we are invisible and interchangeable.  Maybe if I lose a few pounds and bind down the girls, but not yet.  I was told they stopped groups of girls to make sure no one was hiding.  They lifted lanterns to see everyone’s face closely. I really hope they’re not looking for me.  I really screwed up taking that assessment.

Anyway, English lessons are commencing this evening.  Now that we’ve got kids, we’ve got to start schooling.  Plus, my people should be able to read.  All of them.  This literacy for the humans and poverty for the elves thing sucks.  Well, this is MY alienage, and we’re going to school.  An hour in the morning and an hour in the evening for anyone not busy.

I laid down a few other rules, too. We’re family.  We support the Inquisition.  There will be no lying to the Nightingale. (Random agents?  Screw them.  I know for a fact some of them are corrupt.)  The work must get done.  If we can get it done faster and better by swapping jobs, then do it with my blessing. Then we can all come home and rest.  Everyone gets their own money.  No stealing.  If you see something being thrown away that is useful, feel free to bring it home.  Don’t take useful things or anything the inquisition might come back for.  We’re here to help them.  Stay away from Baldy.  I mean it.  Don’t let him focus his gaze on you. That apostate is not safe for us. Don’t catch his eye.  Watch out around Varric.  He’s smart, and if the people in charge find out about this hut being in use, they might take Ethelathe from us.

I told them I am keeping track of their names.  I said if anyone had a problem with that, they had two choices.  Deal with it or leave.  If they didn’t feel safe, I’d give them 3 days to decide what name to give me. (Hopefully that helped them understand that I want the name they use with us, not some official roster thing.) I did point out that if we didn’t have their official roster name, then they couldn’t get a day off.  Invisible and interchangeable. 

We also got another unregistered elf.  Jailyn spotted her as she came down the road, and offered her a drink.  Garalen, her name is.  I don’t remember much of my project elvhenen, but didn’t gara mean arrive or some such and –len’s a male suffix.  Odd.  She’s big for an elf, so should have no trouble spelling even Feren.  Harritt actually said he’d give Feren two days off every tenday, so Feren volunteered to share one of his off days with others.  That’s three of us to spell the others.  We’re good, for our current numbers.

Goodnight, my sweet.  I miss you so much.  I’m still hoping to make it home to you.  Maybe when they close the rift.  I’m guessing two weeks before they have one group or the other in tow, unless Herald Gluteous Maximus Venerandum is a completist like I am.


	18. Day 15, Morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Apparently they don't care about kidnapped kids.

Day 15, morning:

No hint of frantic searches for missing kids.  Assholes. Bet if they were human the whole camp would be searching.  With so many bodies it was actually warm in the hut last night.  Might not need to risk the fire at all.  I’ve been considering it.  Don’t want to alert the humans to a decent hut going “unused”.  You know, when you play the game, you don’t see very many elves, but we’re everywhere.  There’s probably an elf for every two humans in Haven.  The only one we ever really saw in cutscenes was Leorah. 

Elves are doing it all.  Those meals the Inquisitor and his inner circle eat?  They’re not cooked by elves, no, but if there’s a nasty task in the kitchen, guess who’s got it.  We chop onions and peppers, tend fires, clean ovens and surfaces.  Rendering fat?  Call in the knife-ear.  Soap-making?  Guess who? In the scullery, we’re almost all elven.  If you’ve got clean dishes, sheets, or smalls, that’s us.  We’re doing the cleaning and dealing with the harsh soaps.  Then the frilly human maid comes along with her cutesy little feather duster and gets all the credit for the scrubbed floor.  The plain weaving with the scratchiest thread?  We do that.  We’re the back end of the tavern, doing the cleaning up.  Mostly broken clay and puke, but what do you expect when you’re the shit race. 

The kids are going by Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum.  It’s my fault.  I was telling them a story about Alice in Wonderland.  I called them that while tickling them.  They liked the names, and now won’t tell me what their old ones were.  When I tried to dissuade them, they told me that no one ever calls their names anyway.  They’re either da’len or little shit.  “Nice Shems call us kid.”  You know, I think I’m starting to feel some sympathy for egghead.  However, I’ve studied the 60s.  My parents marched with King.  There are other ways.  They’re going to “keep Ethelathe” while the new girls stay home.  I’m heading for the kitchens with Garalen in their places.  If there’s anywhere a fat elf is going to fit in, it’ll be there.


	19. Day 15, Evening

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Invisible and interchangeable. Stupid humans.

Day 15, evening:

Invisible and interchangeable.  I’m shocked every time it actually works.  It seems that more elves than just mine are catching on to what’s going on.  My fellow dishwasher told me she usually works in the stables, but she hates the smell of horse.  She traded with her friend, since her friend used to have a mule.  I told her that if she had any aches and pains at the end of the day, she and her friend could come down to Ethelathe and we’d treat them.

I stopped by Harritt’s to check his burn, and he’d taken off his bandages.  Couldn’t even tell a burn was ever there.  Told me he was sharing the jar with the other smiths, for the small burns one gets at a forge.  “Worked like magic”.  Well, shit.  I’m not telling him.  I did tell him that if he needed more, he could ask me or let Feren know.  He also showed me a prototype of the Inuit style sunglasses.  I’ll be trying them out tomorrow when I check on everyone.  I need to know how many are actually mine, and if they’re hiding injuries.  I’m also feeling buzzy.  Not as itchy now that Egghead is gone, but there’s a constant low-level buzz around in town. 

The Templars are doing nothing but staring at the mages, at least the ones left.  Most of them lit out of here today.  Lisette remains, but her companion is gone.  He was there arguing all the way up to the sealing of the breach in the game.  He’s a chicken shit running to kiss Lord Seeker’s polished hind end.  I have a feeling Cullen’s going to be mediating an argument outside the Chantry doors any time now. 

I’d hope that Herald Hotness (Hey, I saw him NAKED.  I’d know, okay?) will go straight to Val Royeaux after getting back from the Hinterlands.  Wonder if he’ll come back with Sera and Vivienne.  I mostly want to see how Sera interacts with the elven underclass.  She’s all preachy about “PEOPLE people” and complains about elfiness, after all.  We’ll see if she’s all teeth and no bite, caring only about shaming nobles who pick on “real” servants, as a maid recently said to Cara.  Because we elves aren’t “real” servants, we’re “lucky someone actually wants you dirtying up their space”.  Bitch.  I hope someone pees in her Cheerios. 

Wouldn’t mind seeing more Inquisibutt, either.  Hey, I’m human.  Sort of.  I was.  Damn. I’m not exactly sure what I am.

Oh, those two girls that had swapped came in.  My partner had dishpan hands, surprise surprise, and some mild bruising and soreness, source unknown.  Her friend had blisters from mucking stalls and using wheelbarrows, and sore muscles.  The two have been friends “forever”, and came out to the inquisition from somewhere fairly close, I guess.  I gave each one a cup of our “home brew”, and they went away tipsy but healed.  I asked them to keep the “medicine” under wraps and only send elves who truly would have trouble doing their jobs over here for help.

Just my little part of keeping the underclass getting all the real work done.  We support the inquisition.  The hole in the sky has to be closed, coryphypuss must be stopped, the spice must flow, etc. etc.

Baby girl, I miss you so much.  Good night, sleep tight, don’t let the bedbugs bite.


	20. Day 16, Midday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Who's mine? and What's the Plan.

Day 16, midday:

So I went up to my little spot and did my fat yoga.  Buzzing gone.  That shit’s ANNOYING.  Sent out my feelers to see who’s mine.  Eadras is doing something fiddly in the Chantry.  I knew he could read SOMETHING.  Leorah’s still there.  She’s happy today.  Probably because she’s gone four days with no pain at all.  We’re getting it done faster and better now that we’re not hurting.  Feren is Feren, and he’s right next to Harritt.  They’re both fine.  Jailyn’s good.  The kids are playing in the snow.  I can feel Cara.  Still feels weird.  Like, maybe she wants to join up with whatever we are, and our goals are close enough, but she’s got prior obligations?  I don’t know how this magic shit works. 

Of the new people I haven’t gotten names on yet, I only get a good bead on the man.  The two women are hazy, like they’re not sure yet.  It’s almost like they’re not REAL yet, but that’s crazy.  Garalen is not mine.  I can find her and feel her, but she’s definitely not mine.  Turns out I can find Adan, Seggrit, and Daniel, too.  No Flyssa.  Not mine, but she’s nice.

That’s seven from my little group for sure.  Maybe up to ten if I include Cara and the two women.  Adding Daniel, Adan, Harritt, and Seggrit make fourteen. That’s a lot of souls to be responsible for.

We probably have another two weeks before the final sealing of the breach and I’ve got so much work to do.  I keep hearing Cullen say that “most” of haven got out.  Does that include us?  Do they even count us?  We’re going to be ready, but I’m not going to tell anyone what for.  Can’t have someone blabbing and accidentally changing things in a big way.  My “ready” is having supplies already packed, these first aid kits the Tweedles and I have been working on done and distributed, an evacuation plan, and a lot of hope. 

I’ll tell Feren to stick with Harritt “if anything bad happens”.  The man makes it out.  I need a better read on Herald Hottie before I leave Adan and Seggrit to his potentially tender mercies.  Daniel and the Tweedles need special handling.  The rest of us are going to have to be more flexible.  As soon as either the mages or the Templars arrive, I’ll start clueing in the others.  Happy celebration or no, we elves will be serving the drinks at the party, not partying.  I’m gonna make sure that stuff is weak as hell.  One of the girls gave me a small barrel cask thing of ale, and I’m going to see if I can’t magic that stuff down to NearBeer.  If not, water is going to be used liberally in every glass.  Hey, no one notices the elf.  Invisible, interchangeable, and ESSENTIAL.  I’m changing our slogan.

No time like the present to give the magic a shot, though.   The world is bright and clean again, and my skin is warm and fuzzy with comfy.  I need to come out here more often.  It’s like the entire place gets pointy and cold and sharp and uncomfortable around the Templars, and buzzy/itchy around the mages.  And where the humans tread, the world is less bright.  Out here I can breathe.


	21. Day 16, Evening

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Planning and Logistics

Day 16, Evening

The Tweedles are so SMART!  They’ve taken to reading like no one I’ve ever seen.  2 days of lessons and they have the alphabet down.  They sing the alphabet song and can recognize and name every letter, in random order.  Can’t ask for much more than that, huh?  I think they’re about 6-7, so kindergarten?  First grade?  Just about the right time anyway.  I snuck Daniel out, too.  He’s 8, and quite the good reader.  I let them play in the snow for a while, and then we traipsed back inside for lessons.  You know, they just let me take Daniel out of the children’s dormitory without question.  “I need to get Daniel” and they just handed him off.  That’s… bad.  Don’t they have kidnapping in Thedas?  Rhetorical.  They do.  Apparently it’s another aspect of the invisible and interchangeable.  And essential.  New slogan. 

The boys brought in three nugs.  We’re going to eat well tonight, and the skins will go to Harritt. Thank goodness the others have some idea of what to do with dead animals.  I can cook cuts of meat just fine, but getting all the guts out?  Getting the skin off?  No clue.  I watched them carefully.  Still no clue.  We set up a small campfire outside the cottage and buried the nugs in embers, after wrapping them in leaves.  Elm?  Not sure.  Not elfroot, leaves from a tree.  It was really good.  We don’t get meat much, unless Harritt is being generous.

The kids did an approximate head count.  I said there was an elf for every two humans.  That was a bit of an exaggeration.  We’ve got 62 elves, and probably 350 humans.  I’ve only seen 3 dwarves, and that includes Master Tethras.  Of those humans, we have probably 75 civilian workers, 150 soldiers/scouts/Templars/people in uniforms, 14 mages, 9 tranquil, and the rest children (messengers and servants, usually), visiting nobles, or “important people”. I class important people as those named in the game.  The various inner circle, main characters, Maryden, etc. Oh, I didn’t count Solas or Minaeve in the elf count. That doesn't include Mother Giselle and however many over-pious, holier than thou, elves are farther from the maker clerics she's going to bring. She's likely nice, but she's got some terrible company. 

That’s a boatload of kids.  Damn.  And only 9 tranquil.  With what I know of the circles, there should be a lot more than that.  (And more mages, but they may just be out in Redcliffe.) Just how many Tranquil has Alexion acquired and slaughtered? I think I'm adding the tranquil to my "list of people to keep track of".

Jailyn picked up more cloth from Seggrit.  Apparently it was “the wrong color”.  Nice cotton.  It’s puke green.  It will make excellent bandage rolls. He just GAVE it to us.  Told Jailyn to bring it to me as she passed.  He’s sharp, that one.  Slips on the insults, but has a good heart. We spend a lot of time ripping the cloth into strips.  With that addition, I’m up to 35 medikits.  Bandages, salve (the good one), salve (the regular human one), a teaspoonful of “tea” in a tiny waxed jar (the nobles throw away those dinky glass perfume atomizers like they grow on trees!), bone needle, and nug sinew wrapped up in a cloth bag.  The salves and sinew are packaged in waxed cloth, which will work for tinder if necessary. They’re small enough to carry around with you, and very light.  Enough for all my people to be carrying one.  We’ll be delivering one to our special humans and the tranquil, too.  Adan will probably find it interesting.

About that ale.  Feren says it tastes right, and he drank the whole thing.  Got tipsy.  JUST tipsy.  NearBeer for the win!  Now we have to figure out logistics for serving, casting, staying out of Templar hands, etc.  It’s possible, though.  We really need to keep those tin cans in fighting trim on party night.

Gethon is assigned to the stables.  He came back with handfuls of hay to stuff in our shoes.  I’m not actually all that cold recently, so I gave mine to the Tweedles and Daniel for extra warmth.  Philomena and Marta are both in runners for the healer tents.  Mages, basically.  I’m going to take Marta’s place tomorrow so I can get in to see Adan.  She’ll watch the children.

Four elves stopped by for a “cup of tea”.  Three women and a man.  At least it’s just “playful” this time.  No broken bones, no more personal assault.  Pinches, bruises, and a busted lip.  I think I’ve probably seen all the elves at this point, and can pick out most of them by face.  I told them to stay in pairs or triads after work.  Safety in numbers.  They agreed to spread the idea of staying in groups.

Fact is, people work better when not in pain and not scared.  When they know someone’s going to help, they relax, sleeping better.  We’re getting more work done, more time off, and not wasting our energy on healing or pushing through the pain.  Anyone who’s ever tried to push through knows it’s far more tiring than just doing the job.  With a healthier population, we might even start being less skeletal as a group.

That’s the next hurdle.  We need easy to grab go packs for every man, woman, and child we can outfit.  Food, medkit, spare sets of clothing, blankets, spare boots.  After we get the children and elves outfitted, we’ll work on the rest of them.  The soldiers have their kits, but will probably be fighting.  I know Skyhold is north, but I don’t know where the secret passage is.  If I can find it, perhaps we can get supplies ahead of us.  I’m still hoping I won’t be here past closing the breach, but I can’t let my people suffer in my absence.

If the Herald recruits the Templars, then I’ll find Cole.  He’ll help.  I might be able to convince Dorian to de-spike the punch if the Herald gets the mages.  Don’t know yet.  Dorian’s a loose cannon, and won’t trust easily.

Miss you baby.  I love you.  Be good, okay?  Sweet dreams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited for annoying typo.


	22. Day 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They’re dancing and singing with the elves like they’re actual people. Maybe Sera does have something with this “People people” idea. I never really liked her much in game, but maybe that’s going to change considering I’m one of the little people.

Day 17:

Okay, so today I screwed up again.  I went down to the Chantry house to swap out some books during the midday break.  I’d forgotten that Mother Giselle takes up residence right next to the door I need to use.  They don’t show it in the game, but that storage room at the top of the stairs is reoutfitted for her use.  Humble stuff: just several single cots and bunkbeds, a small dresser, a chest, and a table with a few chairs. Don’t know why she’s not upstairs with the rest of the clergy.  I stood there being lectured like a child for “forgetting the linens” (interchangeable.  It wasn’t me you asked to go get the sheets, lady) when the Nightingale strode in.

Holy shit that woman’s dangerous.  All of us, the humans and the elves, sort of squished up toward the walls when she looked around.  They don’t mention it in the game very much, but the woman is breathtaking, too.  I’m not bi or gay, not that there's anything wrong with that, but hot damn I thought I might be for about three heartbeats.  Anyway.  Have you ever seen videos of Bruce Lee just walking around on set?  There’s a way of stepping I’ve seen in very dangerous people and dancers.  It’s like you don’t put weight on the foot you’re moving until you’re sure of the surface?  Some Navy seals and other special forces, and people like MMA fighters do it.  Solas attempts it in the scene after the singing, where he tells you about the orb.  On him it looks odd (possibly because he’s TRYING to look non-threatening), but on her, it looks like a sleek, threatening prowl.

Not only does she walk dangerous, she has that quality of stillness.  No movement unless she actually needs to move.  If you watch most people, they move constantly.  Little shoulder rolls, a cock of the head, moving their feet, their fingers.  She’s absolutely still.  It’s eerie.  It makes me wonder if the Ashes were defiled.  If I’m in that version of Thedas, then this woman is a lyrium ghost, and it explains some of the creepy away.  I’m going to have to get some details. 

Well, the reason I mention it is that she LOOKS at you.  She stood there, absolutely still, after prowling to the center of the room, and looked at everything.  Including us.  I have a feeling that she’s one who would never mistake one elf for another.  I’m going to make sure none of mine ever take temp jobs around her.  She’ll recognize the face, the name, and the usual position for sure, probably every other place she’s ever seen the elf or their close relatives, what you had for breakfast that morning by the smell, how long since you’ve been to the privy, and everything else.  And the gig will be up.

On to the screw-up.  Turns out that elves don’t generally look people in the face.  I dropped my eyes a touch after the rest of the elves, and that caught her attention.  I was in shock, alright?  The game does NOTHING to prepare you for seeing HER in person.  She stared at me for about a minute before talking to the… chatelaine?  The human lady in charge of the appointments and assignments in the Chantry itself is who I mean.  Don’t know the title.  The chatelaine dismissed us all back to our duties while she was talking with the Spymaster, and I hightailed it out of there as quick as my little rabbit feet could take me.  Scary.  Scaryscaryscary.  Did I mention she’s scary? 

And I didn’t get a new book.  Damnit. The kids were disappointed.  We’ve all read this one.  A lot.  Maybe I’ll sneak into the cottage across from Solas’.  Not his.  It’s covered with sharp spikey itchy … I want to say eyes, but I’ve never seen eyes.  Anyway.  I’m betting what I feel is some sort of ward put near or around his place.  I seem to remember the cottage that Dorian ends up in has a bookshelf.  I think.  I can’t quite remember.  Can’t hurt to look, anyway.  Right? And it’s still EMPTY (though it is being used as a workspace).  Whole house going spare, and Mother Giselle is being put in a storage room.  Totally weird.

One thing.  Based on how they house humans here, Mother Giselle comes with a retinue of probably 10-12 other people.  No clue how many elves.  Or if they get beds.  Not only that, it means that the Herald has spoken to her, and she’s agreed to come here, so my timeline’s still valid.  LOL I say that like I had any doubt.  Since when, in all of my play-throughs, no matter how much of a butt Inquisibabe is, did Giselle ever refuse to come to Haven?  The others?  They might not be coming.  You have to actually invite them, but Giselle?  Yeah.  She’s coming. Like she’d miss this. She’s probably planning on raising the Herald to the top of the food chain from the moment she meets him or her. Actually, Dorian and Cole just show up, and you have to specifically send them away, if I remember right.

The people and I went out past the gate tonight for a little R&R.  Probably another screwup, but damn it was fun.  Harritt and Seggrit both showed up with booze. Adan stood to the side and watched us all with a small smile on his face. I think he put something in the fire, because everyone is calm and relaxed.  And the first girl standing in the smoke started giggling uncontrollably.  Someday I’m going to hear that man laugh.  Uh.  If Inquisibutt saves him and I’m stuck here after closing the breach, I mean.  There were a few straggler humans that have been nice to us.  The head scrub, the chop girl, and the guy who hands out the knitting needles and projects every morning, as well as a few more I don’t recognize.  Maybe 10 of them.  They’re dancing and singing with the elves like they’re actual people.  Maybe Sera does have something with this “People people” idea.  I never really liked her much in game, but maybe that’s going to change considering I’m one of the little people.

Probably 40 elves showed up.  Two thirds of the elven population of Haven is hanging around my campfire tonight.  It’s overwhelming.  I wasn’t able to get Daniel for this one (they noticed a human kid not being back before nightfall), but we’ll save something for him.  Everyone brought something.  We had small pieces of bread and cheese, dried meats, half a melon, and a million other leftover bits.  Enough to make a feast.  Tweedle Dee found some bird eggs, so we had three roasted eggs, too.  Those were given to the kids and to this one girl with a twisted foot. 

Saw Mika for the first time today, too.  She's the one that swapped jobs with Jailyn. Works in the Chantry.  Last I saw of her she was headed out into the woods with another elven girl.  And the best part?  They both had their arms around SEGGRIT, who was carrying an armload of fur.  Oh my, my, my, that charmer!  Somebody’s getting some tonight.  LOL!

It’s not a big deal from some perspectives.  There are always little campfire parties and such going on.  Ours just happened to be primarily elves.  When the singing stick got around to me, I sang “America the Beautiful” for them.  Probably another screwup.  Too many questions on “which God are you talking about” and “where’s America”. Got one on “do they like elves there and can we go?”  That hit me right in the feels.  Anyway, I started singing all the patriotic songs I know.  Uh, is it strange to know so many patriotic songs?  I’m thinking that most countries don’t have five right off the top of someone’s head.

As I watch them, a lot of them are singing Yankee Doodle over and over again.  It’s hilarious. It’s unique, and doesn’t really have anything too not of this world in it.  It’s the one-verse kid version, not the long somber war version.  I also pulled the Yankee Doodle Dandy chorus out.  That’s got some weird place names, but there are so many places.  It was great.  Lol maybe I’ll start calling my people the Yankees.  And I’m the Yankee Jenny.  LOL!

It’d at least be an identity for them, actually.  Most of these people are mine, at least a little bit.  Some of them feel not quite real or sort of wiggly, like Philomena and Marta do.  Some are particularly solid, like Harritt.  Sometimes, out of the corner of my eyes, people seem to be sort of colorful.  Maybe I’m seeing auras now. 

Anyway, It’s like we’re all connected.  Not just me to them, but all of us to each other.  Maybe this is what a real community feels like with this particular sense.  I don’t know what they’re thinking, or how they feel about particular things, but I can feel if they’re scared.  I can tell if they’re in pain.  There’s nothing in the books or games about empathy or similar, so what the hell is this?  I just know I’m going to bite, and hard, if someone tries to hurt one of mine.  You know what, I’m going to try something. I’m not feeling any ice or shards of glass or anything weird, and nobody here gives me the itchies, so it should be safe enough.  I’ll let you know if it works.

Good night, sweet girl.  Mommy’s got to take care of people. 


	23. Day 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Plans awry, day documented, planning improved, reality explored. A good day.

Day 18:

Well, that’s what I get.  I was heading off to try my little idea, and I was sidetracked by first Adan and then Feren and Gethon.  It is apparently hilarious that I have no idea how they dance here.  I’ve done line dances and stuff, but the average country line dance has, at most, eight or nine “parts” that just repeat over and over until the end of the song.  More traditional dances, like waltzes, repeat the same exact step over and over with embellishment.  Elves?  I’m not sure what they were doing, but it sort of looked like a cross between Russian Cossack dancing and extremely formal square dancing, with a bit of Native American traditional dances thrown in for fun.  Uh, not me.

So, after the musical instruments broke out, because OF COURSE they did, Adan pulled me aside to do some human dancing.  Such a sweetie.  Still want to see him grin.  Laugh. Something.  So, we did something like a two-step for a while.  Then Feren dragged me into some sort of group thing where you bounce around in a circle.  Well, the others were doing far more complicated things with their feet, but we were all holding hands and going round and round.  After that, Gethon dragged me into some kind of stomp-jump dance.  It was a lot of fun, but by that time the booze had been passed around a few times, and I am a silly drunk. 

So, I accosted Eadras (I’m not sure why, but probably because he seems old enough to play with and not be  taken seriously) and taught him how to Kizomba. Well, I opened the door.  Apparently Antiva, or wherever he’s from, is indeed much like our hot-blooded Latin peoples here on Earth.  It didn’t take much, since he apparently knew something along the lines of the Latin dances here.  He may be old but Oh My.  So then of course the younger set couldn’t be outdone.  I think I may have started something.  By the end of the evening, I don’t think there’s a man I hadn’t wiggled on.  I’m STILL blushing about it.  And so are my fellow ladies.  I wasn’t the only one.  I was one of the few who went to my bed alone, though.

So, no experimenting happened last night.  Because DANCING.

The day was good.  Worked in the kitchen for Mika today.  Whole day was full of giggles as we all looked at each other.  Got told to pipe down a lot, but the cook was smiling when she said it. She passed around a broken pie for us to “sample”.  It was wonderful.

At midday I popped into Dorian’s cottage.  After exchanging Ode to Bees for some sort of novel, I took a closer look at Solas’ domain.  Still itchy, buzzy, eyes, sharp, stabby, but there are lines and glowy, too.

Most concepts of magic in our world have to do with three steps.  Gather magic power, shape it into the result you want, and release it filtered through your will.  If, and I’m guessing here, the veil is an actual barrier, then there is an ability to ignore it to varying degrees to gather magic from beyond it which makes one a mage.  How good you are at ignoring it is how powerful you are.  The drawback is that if you can ignore it, then you slip when not paying attention, and become vulnerable to whatever’s waiting to snatch you up. 

The problem I’m seeing is that I’ve had completely normal dreams since I’ve been here.  No whispered enticements, no threats, no trickery.  Nothing seems to have tried to possess or influence or play with me.  At first I thought that maybe the veil is thicker here, but that’s kind of ridiculous.  Not only were there some horrific shenanigans going on in Origins, this place is full of suffering and dying NOW.  Well, not so much NOW as a week ago.  Probably all the people who are going to die of their injuries have done so.  The veil is probably tissue around here.

From where I sat, I could hear the mages moaning and groaning about spirits this and demons that and bad dreams every night.  Even Adan’s not sleeping all that well.  He confessed to taking a sleeping draught on a regular basis.  Every single other person that I’ve seen perform any kind of fade manipulation has been haunted by dreams, no matter how powerful they are.  So why are my dreams pleasant?

After work, I sent a message to Ethelathe that I might be a little late that night.  I sat up on the hill above Solas’ place, dropped into lotus, and started my breathing.  When I was calm and warm (and what is that?  When I do this I am not cold anymore), I opened my eyes.  I don’t know what I expected to see.  Well, I do.  I thought I’d see magic draped over and around Solas’ stuff.  But that wasn’t quite it.  It looks like reality has been somehow STRETCHED into the designs he put around his place.  Hammered into sharp spikes and formed into designs that try to trap the mind. And there are the eyes.  They’re actually there, sort of carved into the magic.  It’s beautiful.  Terrifying, but beautiful.  Definitely beyond me.  When I looked over at the mage tents, I could see something similar.  More clumsy, yes, but similar.  It also had an interesting taffy section, like you’d get stuck, and was missing the eyes. 

None of this helped me.  I need to know if I’m actually doing Thedas magic or something else/different/new.  I haven’t been truly cold in days.  I can see things not described in the literature or seen in the games.  I can feel the presence and the movement of magic.  I’m apparently uninteresting to demons of the fade.  Something’s just not right and I’m going to need help.  I’ll either find a mage I can trust or dragoon a Tranquil into keeping my secret.  Until then, I’m going to stick to being the elven alienage elfroot potion maker.  No more wishes, and I’m only checking on my people once a day, at bedtime.

Everyone was nicer to us Doodles today. (Nope.  Nopenope.  Doodles doesn’t work.  I see Varric’s problem with nicknames now.) It seems like most of the humans assumed we had some sort of holiday last night, and they felt inclined to express benevolent tolerance.  There was also a lot of wink wink nudge nudge who’d you sleep with last night prurient interest.  Ugh. 

Regarding business and timelines, if the Herald left on day 14, and Nightingale got word that she was coming sometime between the evening of day 16 and the morning of day 17 (otherwise the setup would have started earlier or later), then it must take two and a half days to reach the Hinterlands.  Which means we can expect Mother Giselle tomorrow or the next day, probably. (19, 20)  Herald Hottie, therefore should be back probably two days after that, unless he’s a completist. (21, 22) From there, he’ll head to Val Royeaux.  Probably.  3 days to get there, spend the night collecting anyone they’re collecting, and 3 days back. (23-29) If he sides with the mages, it’ll be probably a day off (30), three days to Redcliffe, a day of rest, three days back. (37) Then it’ll take a few days for the mages to get here (40), and a day to prepare (41), and then they close the breach, hopefully on day 42 or 43.  And maybe I’ll get to go home.  I’m not sure what the timeline past Val Royeaux would be if they side with the Templars.  Hopefully similar, but I think Therinfal Redoubt is farther away than the Hinterlands.

But, that means I have three weeks to get everything done, and some extra wiggle room if they like ice.  Mika made some progress on the first aid kits, with our total up to 51.  We need more cloth before we can continue.  Gethon came up with the brilliant idea of casting NearBeer on the barrels as they come in.  We don’t have enough booze for a party stored up, and there are supplies arriving every two days or so.  If I NearBeerify the booze as it comes in, I don’t have to worry about it being too strong on Party day.

I’ll admit, I haven’t told the people about why I want the booze watered.  They think it’s because the humans will get rowdy.  Apparently even if everyone comes away intact and unhurt and humans were nice and peachy, the cleanup is horrendous from big parties.  Never been much of a party girl, so I’m taking their word.  But the cleanup from a huge slightly drunk party is much easier than the cleanup from a hugely shitfaced party, so they’re all on board with this.

Well, day documented, planning improved, reality explored.  A good day.

Good night, baby girl.  I miss you every day.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you don't know what Kizomba is, then you could watch this: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tnLu6EaCUNw . Sexy, but SFW. One of the key things is that the two people are never more than a foot apart or so, and if you watch the legwork, (beyond the obvious) you'll notice that their feet are often toe-to-toe, and occasionally the lead partner actually moves the other's feet. It's an extremely sensual dance.


	24. Day 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A normal, boring, restful day

Day 19:

Well, hell.  Turns out I’m an arrogant ass, too.  So I was sitting down with the gang and talking about how I had this really bad feeling, right?  I was talking out my ass about needing backpacks of some kind to be go bags and how we have to stay easily mobile.  The gang pretty much all reached behind them and picked up their stuff.  I’m dim.  They’re ALL ready to go.  They pack their spare clothes and the medikit and their belongings they can’t lose up in clothing or cloth all the time.  It’s NORMAL.  They’ve done this from the beginning.  When I asked why, they started talking about the Blight, and Qunari in Kirkwall, and the purge, and a plague, and on and on.  So, turns out that assuming people aren’t ready to leave at any moment is definitely not something I should be doing.

Even most of the humans have their essentials tied up and ready to grab at a moment’s notice.  Philomena kindly pointed out that very few of us at Haven are actually FROM Haven.  It’s a temporary waystop for all of us. I apologized for making assumptions.  They all laughed at me. At least they’re not mad.  I’ve come to rely on them.  These people are like a second family, and I’ve only known some of them a few days.

They’ve assumed I used to either be or work for a merchant.  It’s probably due to my sarcasm about things not of this world.  Apparently saying “The breach must be healed, the Divine must be avenged, and the SPICE MUST FLOW!” is not nearly as funny if you’ve never read Dune.  But it makes perfect sense if one is a spice trader.  They know that I have “amnesia” of all the events regarding my body (or “me” as it were) up to waking up in the healer’s tents.  I’ve told them I remember lots of stuff, but none of it seems to be about me. Can you imagine how they’d react if I told them I was a forty-plus year old human?

They’ve had several talks about me, it seems.  Feren thinks I’m from a Dalish clan and was put out before getting my tattoos because I have a little bit of magic but I don’t have “the really big showy stuff”. Jailyn argued for working for a food vendor or bakery because I’ve got more flesh than most elves. She thinks that would explain me being able to make elfroot potion, too. They don’t understand about the “twist” of reality and the consumption of spirit, I’m assuming. (I’m also not saying anything to enlighten them.) Eadras thinks I’m a scholar, but he can’t figure from where.  That’s from knowing things like the names of some muscles, the reason arches are stronger than lintel and post doorways, and basic first aid.  Stuff most people in America know.

 Everyone has some opinion, but they all agree I’m weird.  “You DO stuff, Chrissy.  You don’t just keep going and ignore it.”  Well, See A Need, Fill A Need, as Rodney Copperbottom and Mister Bigweld said.  “Are they smiths?”  UGH.  Nevermind.  Probably has to do with the fact that I’m from Earth, not here.  I’ve not been beat down and made to believe I’m less my whole life.  That sort of thing would wear on you, make you less willing to deviate.

I can’t tell them that I’m scared shitless, can I?  We’ve got three weeks until the shit really hits the fan.  They’re going along pleased as punch because Inquisibabe’s going to get help and seal the breach.  They think that’s the end.  We’re planning the party, for heaven’s sake.  I’M even talking about the party.   They’re starting to talk about where they’ll go “when this is all over”. I just want to go home.  My home.  My world.  I don’t want to magic or rally the elves or run an alienage or stop coryphyface.  I want to go home, snuggle on the couch with my little girl, and watch Disney movies.  Read some books.  Play video games.  Get lost in TV Tropes. Eat until I pop.

Enough. Did some more calculations about Thedas life.  If it takes two to two and a half days to get to the Hinterlands with a passel of horses and a couple carts, that means if it were Earth I could drive there in an hour or two.  Hell, I’ve gone that far for a day trip.  I once went that far to meet someone for DINNER.  It’s weird to think that the Hinterlands are about as far away from me right now as my sister is back home.  25 miles a day with a horse and cart, 30 if pushing it.  2 to 2.5 days.  That’s only 50 to 75 miles or so.  This world is at once bigger and smaller with that information.

Other than conversations, it was a boring day.  We had our lessons.  I know I said that nobody could read common, but it’s not that simple.  Everyone could recognize their name, numbers, words that are usually on signs, that kind of thing.  Nobody could (or would admit to) being about to do all the other things associated with reading.  Sounding out new words, writing, extrapolating from context, etc. These people are smart, though.  While the Tweedles are picking up things super fast, it’s not like the rest of them are overly dim.

I’m also showing them my fat girl yoga.  It really helps at the end of the day with tight but not injured muscles.  I swear I’ve worked harder in the last two weeks than any time since basic training.  Muscle soreness, if it’s bad enough, can be helped by the salve, but why waste the salve on that nice soreness from a full day?  That’s what stretching is for.  So I’ve been doing the yoga thing, and now they’re sort of just trying it out too.

I talked to Seggrit.  I teased him a bit about bonfire night, and he actually blushed.  You’d think a smuggler reprobate like him would be immune to teasing, but he’s not.  Apparently.  He’s one of those who blushes all the way down his neck, too.  He teased me right back about the dancing.  Said it was very interesting that after dancing with every male there, except him (because he was busy, but I didn’t say anything), I went to bed alone.  I didn’t know what to tell him.  I’ve not done that sort of thing in seven years.  It really just didn’t occur to me.  I told him no one had asked for my company, and I wasn’t one to presume.  His look changed, so I added that I wasn’t into reprobate shems.  Then I got the laugh that I was aiming for.  He’ll tell me if he hears of any alcohol coming in.  I hope he didn’t think that I’d gone to bed alone because he was busy with someone else.  Ugh.  No.  He’s the sweetest used car salesman I’ve ever met, but he’s still a used car salesman.

Anyway.  Boring day.  Nothing changed.  I think I need more of these.

Goodnight, my little one.  I miss you, every moment of every day.


	25. Day 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mother Giselle and playing with magic.

Day 20:

I was right about the timeline so far, perhaps even overestimating a bit.  Mother Giselle and company rolled in about an hour after sunrise.  That means they camped a ways away so that everyone could come in rested and looking imposing instead of bedraggled and tired.  She had only seven other clergy types and personal people with her, instead of the ten or twelve I was expecting.  Guess nobody shares a bed in the chantry.  A single elf lady among them.  Perhaps she’s the official maid for the group or Giselle herself? She also had about half the soldiers that Inquisibabe took with him. 

Cullen, Josephine, and Leliana were on hand to greet her at the gates.  The advisors received her cordially and escorted her into the town proper.  Honestly, I thought they’d be warmer to her.  Leliana, especially.  We’d all kind of turned out to see who was trotting in, so we all saw the strained smiles.  They just didn’t QUITE reach the eyes.  Maybe Giselle was a rival to the Divine, or passed over for the position?  Respected but not trusted or liked?  I know she’s a kingmaker, so maybe the others are just concerned she may meddle in some way they don’t like.

The rest of the day was taken up in a flurry of activity similar to the first few days I was here.  Elves and humans running hither, thither, and yon, with all sorts of goods and messages.  Apparently Mother Giselle is a hub like the Nightingale is a hub.  Activity flies around her, while she gently walks wherever she goes.  I made sure I was one of the people to deliver messages to her.  She seems sort of nice.  She thanked me for the message and then dropped me from her thoughts.

She doesn’t seem scary.  It’s more like she has a series of expectations and doesn’t even consider that they won’t happen.  Rather like I think a CEO acts.  This is what needs doing, tell a personal assistant, let the personal assistant handle it, sign the paper when presented. CEOs don’t really notice janitors unless the job’s done exceptionally well or exceptionally poorly.  (That’s not a slam on person seeing person, just CEO busy, janitor busy, the two just don’t meet unless something is extraordinary.)  So, an organizer, like Lady Montilyet, but less political in some respects.  Those two are likely to butt heads so very sweetly and cordially.  I can’t wait to see an extremely polite argument.

She also seems like the type who’s been sheltered and never really be terrified in her life.  Have you ever met a cloistered nun?  I visited a nunnery once, and a few of the sisters were like that.  Idealistic, and firmly convinced that no matter what happened, it would be God’s will.  The kind that would walk gracefully to their own execution, fully believing that they would be saved or die based on someone else’s will, and content with that.  I don’t understand it, but I’ve seen the type before. 

I think she’s fully settled in before Inquisibabe gets back, so we shouldn’t expect him today.  No earlier than tomorrow, and probably the day after.  If everything goes to Canon, that is.  Has so far.  Unless Heraldy doesn’t do ANYTHING at the Crossroads and left right on her heels, which I suppose is possible.  I really need to get an opportunity to actually meet him.  What kind of person is he?  Hell, I just need to know if he’s a straight to the end person or a check every nook and cranny person.  Just knowing that would help.

Other than the arrival, the day went well.  I tried something new today, away from everyone.  It occurred to me that just the information in this journal is really dangerous to just about everyone.  So, I know that I said I wasn’t going to try anything with magic until I got help, but I kinda had to do this.  I took some real good looks at what the various mages had done around their huts.  Then I went back to my cranny past the logging camp, where I made the potion?  I set my journal on that flat rock, and tried to pull the edge of the rock up and over to cover the journal.  Bet you can guess how well that worked.  Not very.  I did make the edge of the rock a bit sharper, but that’s it.  The LOOK of the rock was spikier, but the actual rock?  Not so much. No normal person would see anything different at all. So I smoothed it back as best I could, but it sort of looks like playdough now when I look at the magic.

So then I figured that maybe the glowy mist was better to work with, and sort of blew more of it on top of the pages.  Worst case scenario, I have to start over, right?  I thought about how in The Sorcerer’s Apprentice they hide the Grimhold just by leaving it in plain sight, but not seen, until the mists and dust show it.  I kind of reversed that, and sort of PULLED at something, and my journal faded from sight.  I could feel them, but not see them.  I could even pick them up!  Bad part is that they were ITCHY.  I could feel that they were WRONG somehow, and it would lead me right to them.  However, since I wasn’t looking to leave them where another mage might sense them, I was okay with that.  Then I rested for forty five minutes or so, and twisted/pulled the other way, and they shimmered back into sight.

And now I’m writing this down, and then I’m going to do it again and bring my invisinotes home, and then I’m going to bed.  I’ve got to find someone to help me.  This stuff just doesn’t make SENSE or work the way it obviously should. Plus, I'm worried I did something horrible to that rock. I promise, no more playing unless I have to.

Goodnight, mija.  3 weeks until my chance to see you again.


	26. Day 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Turns out the breach isn't the only thing that's displaced people.

Day 21:

Can you believe I searched for my journal for half an hour before I found it right where I left it? It was sitting right on top of the desk.

Anyway.  Today had an exciting moment.  I kept Ethelathe today.  Isn’t that interesting phrasing?  I was corrected that we don’t “hold” Ethelathe, which would make sense to me.  Ethelathe isn’t a place.  It’s just IN a place.  Okay.  Not exactly sure what that means, but I don’t speak Elvish so what do I know. 

Back to the subject.  About midday, while I was feeding the boys their lunch, there was a KNOCK on the DOOR.  And when I went closer to it, I started shivering.  Oh, shit, I was thinking.  You understand, I’m sure.  So I bade the boys get behind the door real quick and opened it just enough to look through with one eye.  There stood this mountain of a man in shiny Templar armor.  I was terrified and cold at this point.  He looked me dead square in the eyes and asked if I knew the Kwisatch Haderach!  OMG!  He’s a dislocated soul!

He’d been grooming his horse in the stables and heard Gethon and Feren joking about my joke slogan: “The breach must be sealed, the divine must be avenged, and the spice must flow!”  He followed Feren when he brought the boys and me our midday. (Feren’s going to be pissed that he was so clumsy as to lead a Templar to our house.) He dislocated out of 1980’s Montana and was a farm boy going to high school when he was dropped into the Circle Tower kerfluffle 10 years ago.  Apparently the fade was badly ruptured at that place and time, and dislocations happened.  He was completely inept at Templar stuff, though he had the potential.  They just assumed something bad had happened and sent him to special training to bone up.  No one had known who he was or where he trained.  He’s been here (in Thedas, not Haven) ever since.

Looking at it, this means to me that the bodies may not be body-snatched.  It’s possible that there was no one in this body before I was.  That’s a bad thing, from my perspective.  If it was a matter of body-swapping, then I could be fairly certain that someone was taking care of my little girl in my body while I handled things here in hers.  It also means that I may not have a body to get back to.

So, I asked him how invested he was in circle politics.  He said he had no issue with mages as long as they weren’t possessed or incredibly stupid.  At that point I opened the door for him.  I waved my hand at the sacks of cloth we were using for chairs and invited him to sit a spell.  When he removed his helmet, I could see he had not been in kind times these last years.  He had scars, and his face had the look of one who has seen more than he should have. If he’d been in high school when he dislocated, then he must have arrived in a body that was older than his, I posited.  Aloud. 

Actually, the Templars actually start out really young.  He’s twenty eight in spirit and body.  I told him I’m forty four in spirit, but who knows how old the elf body is.  And men will apparently be men.  He WAGGLED HIS BROWS at me.  Ewww.  I lifted a brow and asked if he was REALLY hitting on the fattest elf in Thedas.  Idiot men.  He said he was a fan of curves, and I told him that I wasn’t on the menu.  He laughed at that.

Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum decided it must be safe at that point and brought their lunches back to the seats. Dee told me that I had to welcome this guy to Ethelathe and tell him the rules if he was going to sit down.  Really?  First I heard of it.  Anyway, that reminded me of my manners.  I did indeed welcome him to Ethelathe and told him that this was a place of peace and safety.  We introduced ourselves, me as Chrissy and him as Andrew, and the Tweedles as the Tweedles, of course.  If he couldn’t live and let live here, I stressed to him, then we would see him leave.  Andrew gravely nodded in return.  “I can do that,” he said.  I asked him to keep any conversation held here behind his teeth as well, and he grew wary.  There are apparently some things he can’t promise, but so long as there were no possessed mages, he’d keep silent. 

“No, just a baby apostate,” I replied.  He looked at the boys, and we three laughed.  “Not them, me,” I got out.  “I’ve been a mage for about 3 weeks.”  He narrowed his gaze at me and told me I didn’t feel like a mage.  I responded that maybe it was my imagination, then.  Hey, if I’m not powerful enough to be a “real” mage, then all the better, right? (I didn’t say that part.)  Anyway, we chatted a bit, and I told him that I was going to be teaching the elves a few old civil rights era songs, so not to be surprised if he heard them.

Andrew had known about the issues, but it hadn’t affected him all that much.  He didn’t tolerate abuse around him, but never went farther than that.  He wished me good luck and told me to look him up if I needed anything. I told him as he left that we had our first black President in 2008.  He stopped and looked at me, nodded, and continued on his way.

I then sat down with the Tweedles and told them that I was trusting them with something important.  That man had come from a country very far away.  If they told on him, they’d hurt him, and be abusing the rules of Ethelathe.  This was what sanctuary was for, to bring your troubles and talk about your problems in safety, without fearing someone would tell others.  It didn’t matter that he was human.  He had been a guest.  After getting agreement to keep their lips zipped (they said shut, but the same thing), we finished lunch and headed outside to play.

So apparently I’m not a mage.  Or I don’t look/feel like a mage.  Or he’s just not the best Templar.  Or I wasn’t using magic at the time, so I was invisible.  Or something.  See?  This is why I need help.  Interestingly, I never told Andrew where or when I was from, or even that I was a dislocated soul.  I just told him about the president and that I knew civil rights songs and Dune.  We never discussed any of the other things he and I would have in common.  Am I just that guarded?  Or was it just not the right time or something?

I’m not sure how I feel about knowing about Andrew.  Or about him knowing so much about me.  And thinking about it, calling myself a baby apostate might have been bad if he repeats it.  Hopefully he won’t.

On to better subjects.  Ethelathe has had access to our own personal healing supplies and support for only a week.  In that time, I can see that the elves have become more confident in general.  There are more injuries from “shoved out of the way” than “screwed up and someone took out their anger on me”.  We’re also eating a bit better because we have been hunting nugs for meat and sinew.  With just this week of better food, better work, days off, and medical care, there’s a little less gaunt to the frame.  Still gaunt, still dark circles under the eyes, but they’re lighter. 

I think the main thing is that they’ve been given PERMISSION.  Permission to pass the job onto someone else.  Permission to take a breath.  Permission to be angry, sometimes.  They’re giving themselves permission to be themselves, despite the humans.  And it’s only been a week.  I’m SO PROUD of them.  Let’s see how it continues.

I sang the Tweedles to sleep with a lullaby of “We Shall Overcome”, as done by Peter, Paul, and Mary.  I’m going to do so every night.  We’ll see if it sticks.

On to logistics.  Current medikit count is 82, enough for all the elves, including the one with Mother Giselle (63), Harritt, Seggrit, Daniel, and Adan (67), the 9 tranquil (76), and 6 more.  I’m debating whether I should keep one for myself.  What if I go home? It’s a thought for another day.  Well, the extra we’ll be double-packing on the human packs for now.  They’re bigger and can carry more, and if they need to help someone they won’t be questioned as hard.  Need to do another potion round before too long.  Maybe tomorrow.

The earliest inquisibabe could arrive is tomorrow.  I’ve already told the people to stay away from any arguments between mage and Templar, and steer clear of Chancellor Rod-up-his-butt.  Well, I used his name.

Well, baby girl, I’m either halfway home or not, but I miss you like crazy.  I really hope you’re doing okay.  I love you.

 


	27. Day 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Outed, but for a good reason

Day 22:

So there was no mage-templar argument and no inquisibabe arrival today.  Maybe tomorrow.  That shifts my entire timeline one day, at least.  Maybe he’s actually helping people out there.  That bodes well for the kind of Inquisition it will be.  It also means my chance at getting home is a day further away.  Le Sigh. 

There was a noble arrival, though.  Josie has it set up well.  A noble arrives, stays a day or two, is packed out, a day to clean, another arrives.  It’s a well-oiled machine. (Better not use that one except around dwarves.) I was helping to get his gear into the guest house, and he hit on EVERY SINGLE female person, regardless of race or age, in the space of about 2 hours.  He was also wearing an extremely strong perfume.  He arrived about an hour before midday, and when we took our midday break (an hour late) I made the mistake of calling the poor Orlesian man Pepé Le Pew.  And it stuck.  They don’t get the reference, of course, but calling a Lord “le pew” because he’s Orlesian and stinks is funny enough, I guess.

By the end of the day, it had spread, not just among the elves but among EVERYONE.  I heard one human servant say that she was taking “Monsieur Le Pew” his dinner while I was in the tavern buying more spirits.  Everyone knew who she was talking about.  At least no one is rude enough to say anything to the gentleman, I hope.  He’s probably very nice.  He was universal in his attentions and did take a gentle no for an answer, after all.  Treated none of us different from any other, either, and didn’t seem to look down on us just because we were the fetch and carry set.  If he hadn’t stunk to high heaven?  Maybe he’d have gotten a little play.  Not from me, but from SOMEONE.  Anyway.  I feel bad.

I took the spirits Feren carried home and the other ingredients out to my little nook past the loggers.  Took Feren with me too, since I passed out or whatever last time.  Did my breathing, chopped and smushed, boiled, TWISTED, etc. etc.  Also made more salve in the same way.  Tired, but not horribly tired.  The potion and salve are glowy.  Even more so than before, actually.  Either I’m being more efficient or I’m getting better at this.  Anyway, Feren kindly carried just about everything back, since he didn’t have to carry me.  He said that, actually, and winked. 

You know, he’s cute and all, but no.  I don’t know what it is, but these people, aside from Eadras, seem more like teenagers.  They’re young.  The older elves stayed in their alienages instead of highing off to Haven.  That makes sense, though.  When you’re taking a trip, especially if it’s exciting, you tend to leave the elders and the young ones at home.  That’s why the Tweedles are the only elven kids and Eadras is the only elder.  There are a couple older elves, but they’re not in this little group, and they’re more twenty five instead of thirty five. The age group that would prefer to be home with their kids, actually did so, I guess.  Anyway, I’m not sure how old this body is, but I’m over forty.  I have no real interest in tupping starry eyed young ‘uns.

Speaking of tupping, there was another “incident”.  Andrew apparently took the things I said to heart.  The Templar hauled a recruit off an elven girl when said recruit wasn’t taking no for an answer.  He told Mika (who was in the vicinity) to go get me, and hauled the recruit off.  So I came running up with Eadras, Feren, and Gethon (and Mika and Philomena) about the same time as the Commander, who had also been sent for. 

Thank God that man’s a decent sort.  After hearing the recruit babble about how much the girl who was crying and had a ripped sleeve wanted it, Cullen had the man held. Eadras cradled the girl and said “Dalen, Ethelathe ya surem. Ma amelan suremah.” (There are probably a bazillion apostrophes in there, but I can’t even spell Ethelathe right, much less the rest of it.) I got the dalen part and the Ethelathe part, but the rest is beyond me.  I’ll ask another time. Feren and Gethon stepped between Eadras and Cullen, just in case.  Cullen looked like he wanted to get to her, but he didn’t make a move to go past the boys.

So, of course I had to pipe up.  “Commander, do all your recruits think our women are theirs for the taking or just some of them?” I admit, I was a bit pissed, so my tone was not so nice.  I may have been a hair snarky.  And ANDREW outed my NAME!  He was apparently shocked, and said my name in that shocked tone of voice men get when they think girls are being unreasonably bitchy.  Thinking about it now, it had probably been outed already when he sent Mika for me.

Cullen stepped up to the plate and loudly declared that such things were not to be permitted no matter what race or gender the victim was.  Good on him.  He looked at me warily, and then asked me to speak with him in a more private setting.  Feren and Gethon bristled, but I waved at them to calm down.  I nodded, and told him I’d speak to him in the morning.  It was nearly midnight, after all. Then Eadras with his burden, the boys, and a few straggler elves (some part of my little group and some not) followed me back to the cottage.  As we left, I heard the Commander kicking everyone out of the tavern.  (The incident took place just outside.)

Once we got back, the ladies and I kicked the men out to the other side of the wall.  Tanya was new to me, but I’d seen her face around.  She’d not been at the bonfire.  She was scared, and she had some finger bruises on her arm, jaw (where he gripped her face), and hip, but she was otherwise fine.  The ripped dress will be easily mended.  Since none of the bruising hindered movement, and we still had to talk to the people in charge, I requested that she refrain from magical healing until we addressed the matter.  She agreed with a "duh" look, and we settled her down in our group. (Maybe she didn't know we had healing poultices and potions on hand? I'd just "restocked" after all.)

It wasn’t 5 minutes after I had her seen to that there was a knock on the door.  Andrew was there, and he held out a potion from the healer’s tents.  Commander Cullen had sent it over, with his thanks for not escalating the situation and his apologies that it had happened.  I handed it back to the guys (who were glaring at Andrew over my head, I bet), and told them I’d be right back.  After I stepped outside, I thanked him both for intervening and sending someone to me.  It would have been a lot scarier for her if the soldiers and humans had been the ones trying to help her.  He looked at me and told me that I’d reminded him how humans should be, and that he was going to be that way from now on.  I hope he’s right.  I shook his hand and he went on his way. 

I grabbed my blankets, a lantern, and my journal, and told everyone I'd be back in the morning, because I had to think. I'm going to spend the night in front of the cottage, just in case.  I've never actually been in a fight, but I sure can scream and I've taken a few years of Karate like almost everyone else.  My screaming would bring everyone in the cottage out, and fifteen elves can take on any one man.  Almost wish I had a gun, though.  I've got my pistol quals up to date, useless as that is here.  Why yes, I do fear reprisal, why do you ask?

Anywho, that’s my exciting day.  I have a meeting with an advisor tomorrow.  Guess I’m not going to be anonymous anymore.  I’ll worry about that when the time comes.  Goodnight, baby.  Mommy loves you.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Dalen, Ethelathe ya surem. Ma amelan suremah." -- If I have it right, it means "Child, Sanctuary has come/arrived. Your Protector/Guardian will do something/is about to act."
> 
> Project Elvhen for the win!
> 
> If anyone has a better way to say that "the entity that we embody that we call the "safer space" has arrived, and our leader/guardian/protector/HMFIC is going to do something about this." then please let me know. I will change wording as necessary. I'm certainly not a scholar of Elvhen and appreciate help/correction.
> 
> Edited 21 June 16 for continuity.


	28. Day 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meeting with Cullen, mage-templar yelling, and Inquisibabe returns

Day 23:

I’ve apparently made some interesting friends.  I woke at dawn to find that Andrew was asleep leaning up against the wall to my left and Garalen was sleeping against the wall to my right, with daggers in her lap.  Drooling.  Andrew came back because he was worried about reprisals against our alienage, too.  When I told him he should have brought a blanket as well as his sword, he said he never got cold anyway, so he didn’t bother.  He bowed to me and did the back two steps away before turning thing the Thedas nobles do.  What’s that shit about?

I woke Garalen up and found myself against the wall with a knife at my throat.  Note to self, don’t touch the lady with the daggers without her knowing ahead of time.  She apologized profusely, and I’m not hurt, but WHOAH, she moved FAST.  She apparently was out here because she didn’t know what I was doing, and wanted to protect me.  It’s “cute” that I slept in front of the door to protect the gang, but she doesn’t think I can take care of myself in a fight.  Meh.  She’s probably right.  She stepped right over me to get out, after all.  She was awake when Andrew got here and gave him permission to stay.

I have been duly informed by Garalen that I won’t be going anywhere alone to meet with any Commander or anybody else, for that matter, without an escort of at least two people, and they’ll be armed.  The gang decided to have a family meeting without me last night.  Feren’s going to be coming with his blacksmith hammer and Garalen’s going to be there with her daggers.  Can I just say she’s really mean looking when she smiles like that?  Now, I don’t think I’m in any danger from Commander Cullen, but if it keeps my family happy, then they can come anytime I have a meeting with someone important.  Not likely to happen very often, after all.  Seems a bit overkill for a conversation, though.

After breakfast, Feren ran off to the forge to get his hammer.  Garalen put her knives away, and doesn’t actually look armed.  I was dressed (yes, WAS DRESSED, because I had not a damn thing to do with it when Philomena and Leorah attacked me with clothes) in a fairly nice dress, in a forest green wool material.  Not very practical.  Leorah did something to my hair and it’s in some complicated braid.  I was told that if I’m going to talk to important people, I’m going to look important.  Was I under some impression that I might be in charge and making rules?  Apparently I’m a child to be dressed and primped before going out to play.  I felt 12.

Feren came back and he had people in tow.  Harritt and his assistant as well as Adan decided to come “observe” the occasion.  Harritt and Feren were both carrying hammers.  About 2 seconds after that, Andrew showed back up, like a bad penny.  I was getting irritated, but Jailyn told me that they wanted me to make a good impression.  She also told me that they were worried about something happening to me.  Then she and Cara opened the door and led me all the way to the main encampment area.  An eight-person guard just for me to talk to one man.  A bit overkill.

Apparently he thought so, too, because he raised one eyebrow when he saw us.  Because of course he’s up with the sun and training and stuff.  He handed off his recruits to some other dude in uniform and walked up to us.  We’d stopped outside the training area because, you know, SWORDS.  Andrew then stepped forward and formally introduced me as “Mistress Chrisopal, the Ethe…”  He stuttered with the word and Garalen chimed in with “Ethelathun”.  He continued, “of Haven.”  Now, I’d never heard that word, either, but it had something to do with Ethelathe, so I guess it meant the person who started it.  Should have been Eadras, though. He named the thing. 

Andrew then introduced Cullen with probably every title the man had ever held.  Former this and that, the Inquisition’s military commander, the Lion of Fereldan, the Honorable Cullen Rutherford.  How sweet.  Yes, his titles are bigger and longer than my titles.  So, when I’m nervous I tend to either stay silent or blurt things out, okay?  So instead of keeping my tongue behind my teeth and smiling, I immediately said “So are we done comparing penis length now?  Commander Rutherford and I have an appointment, and he’s a very busy man.” To poor Andrew.  Cullen turned pink, Andrew turned pink, half my retinue started coughing and the rest smirked or turned away.  The recruit nearest us barked a laugh, and Cullen turned and glared at him. 

I was a sailor.  That was nice of me.  I could have used worse terminology.  If we could skip all this primping and formal posturing in general and actually get down to business, I’d be a lot happier.

Well, Cullen recovered well, and offered me his arm.  I took it, and he led me over to the pier so we could talk.  Feren and Garalen came with at a slight distance, and everyone else stayed where they were.  They could see us, but not hear us.  The Commander told me that he’d be giving some lectures and instructions about treatment of people both on and off duty.  He appreciated that we’d managed to deescalate the situation quickly and with minimal bloodshed.  I complimented him on his quality Templar who’d done all the work.  Basically, we chatted for a bit, agreed that mistreating people, even elves, is bad, and he said he’d make sure it won’t happen again from his people.  Which is a fine sentiment, but hardly enforceable.  I didn’t say that to his face, though.  Apologies accepted, etc. etc. Yes, everything’s peachy, etc. etc. The young lady in question is better, yes.  Soldier to receive public lashing, WHAT?

So, apparently this is normal?  I couldn’t stomach that, so I requested a change in punishment.  And I wanted the recruit to know it was me that kept his back intact.  Two months of latrine duty and night escort for any elves who need it.  It’d be his ass if someone else was assaulted at night, and THEN he could get his lashings if necessary.  Maybe some time in the company of elves in the role of protector could help his attitude.  Cullen mercifully agreed, and had the miscreant brought out to us.  The law was laid down, and the man was suitably appreciative that his back wasn’t to be flayed today. 

When he grabbed my hand, I lost my temper, though.  Yanking my hand free, I sort of barked “What part of not touching people without permission don’t you understand, recruit?”  Uh, did I mention that I ran a boot company through a few times?  I kind of sounded sort of military-ish. Or maybe like a Company Commander trying to whip some baby squid into real sailors.  Or something.  Projection, you know.  I really need to keep my mouth shut.  So after everybody stopped staring at me, AGAIN, Cullen yelled at him, I forgave him, he groveled a bit, and then I tried to take my leave.  Good talk all around right?  Well, that’s when the fight broke out.

Mages vs. Templars, in a screaming match we could hear from the training grounds.  We all took off running toward the noise, of course, including some of the officers.  You know, in the game it looks like three or four mages staring at four or five Templars and just casually hurling accusations back and forth.  In person?  Not so much.

Probably nine mages (and there are only fourteen of them) faced off with twenty five or so Templars, all yelling at the top of their lungs so no one understood anything anyone was saying.  The combination of loud, itchy, ice spikey, and everything gave me a huge headache.  I think they call Cullen the Lion of Fereldan because of his roar.  His “enough” echoed off the mountainsides.  And of course, that’s when Inquisibabe showed up.  With his friends.  And Leliana came running out of her tent.  And Josie and Mother Giselle from the Chantry.  Basically a hundred plus people standing in the requisition yard, all silently staring at Cullen. I refrained from giggling, barely.

The Herald had his little conversation, nearly word for word, and then Chancellor Rod-up-his-butt had his say, and then everybody went about their business.  Or tried.  Why do these people keep STARING at ME?  As our little group was heading back to our places, Egghead and Varric exchanged glances.  Varric was apparently designated the official speed bump. Who are you, where you from, I saw you in the tavern before.  Chrissy, not here, I know.  I told him I really had things to do, and he let me go, but told me he’d see me around.  My head was really pounding by this point, and my right eye was trying to escape.

I was so glad to get back to Ethelathe!  Harritt and Adan left after asking if I was okay, the former with a fresh batch of Elfroot poultice.  Andrew did the bow and two step thing again before heading out to figure out what the heck was wrong with the Templars that they’d nearly come to blows in the street.  Feren, Cara, and Philomena went off to work.  Garalen, the scary little angel, helped me out of the dress, made a snowpack for the back of my neck, and blessedly covered the windows.  I think it’s because of her I didn’t end up with a full on migraine. 

I was woken up when everyone came home at the end of the day and was treated to a highly exaggerated retelling of my day.  No, I didn’t hit anyone.  No, I didn’t yell at the commander.  He’s very nice and we got along fine.  No, the mages weren’t hurling spells at the Templars.  Yes, Samuel Trevelyan is back. (Found out his name.  Still going to call him inquisibabe.)  No, I’m not going up to the tavern to talk to the dwarf.  The Tweedles were practically bouncing they were so excited. I played nice, did all the normal evening stuff, sang the boys to sleep, We Shall Overcome RahRahRah, and now I’m out here under the stars, recuperating from a very stressful day. I remembered to thank the ladies for the dress help, too.

I feel much better after a few minutes breathing.  It’s like I have to recharge after dealing with these people in Haven.  They’re so draining.  Not MY people, the rest of them.  I did the check on my people thing and I seem to have more.  A lot more.  Feels like fifty-sixty people “belong” to me.  Still don’t know what that means.  Andrew is one of them, but I bet nobody’s surprised at that. Garalen’s still definitely not mine.  Philomena’s far more solid, but Marta’s still wispy.  Feren feels almost as solid as Harritt.  Tanya is mine. For a change no one is hurt, no one is afraid.  That actually feels nice.  Guess everyone was on their best behavior today.

So, I’m going to blow the visibility off my journal and turn in.  Goodnight, sweetie.  I miss you so very much.  Be good for Grandma, okay?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ethelathun - person who is the physical representation/manifestation of a safer space, person who embodies safer space-itude. 
> 
> Yes, they're calling her "Sanctuary"
> 
> As always, if you know a better way to say what I'm trying to say, feel free to correct me. I am not an elvish scholar.


	29. Day 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where I don't realize what I've done

Day 24:

I worked in the stables today.  I figured, rightly, that they’d need extra hands to handle the extra horses.  We gave them all a good rubdown and let them play in the paddock all day. It’s hard work, but it’s soothing in a way.  I worked at a barn as a teenager for a month or two.  The tools, the routines, everything’s the same. There’s only so many ways to muck out a stall, after all.  Also, it’s hard work.  When I expend so much physical energy, I don’t have to think so much.  It’s a place I can pretend I’m just horsing around at home.  (Hehhe) Pun intended.

Showing up to meet Cullen dressed all fancy did something to the people around me.  I’m not quite so invisible anymore, and I don’t like it.  Several times today someone asked me why I was tending the stables.  Both humans and elves asked.  And “because it needs to be done.  There’s more horses here today,” is apparently a shocking answer.  Did they not hear “see a need, fill a need”?  I am Rodney Copperbottom, hear me roar.  Dressing me up all fancy and parading me in front of people doesn’t change the fact that shit still needs to get done.  I took a day off yesterday with that headache. 

I’m keeping my head down because I’ve gotten a little too much notoriety as of late.  I can’t afford to be caught by someone wanting to do me harm.  I realize that I’m small.  Despite my thunder thighs and boulder boobs, I’m tiny compared to the mountain-sized humans I’m surrounded by. I also realized yesterday that I have absolutely no martial skills that would help me if someone decided to hurt me.  I’m at the mercy of others.  And that’s really scary and nothing I can tell my guys.  Martin Luther King Jr. got SHOT, ya’ll.  So did Anna Mae Aquash.  And I’m not impervious to arrows.

The Tweedles told me this morning they want to be like me, because I’m not afraid of ANYTHING.  Yikes, how do I tell them I'm afraid now? Any of them?  They look at me like I've done something important. Apparently I even “argued with the Commander” and “rescue even shems from beatings”.  What?  That’s not what I did.  I didn’t argue or rescue.  I just offered an alternative that was both better and worse, right?  More humiliation, less blood?  So I told the boys that yelling at people who are bigger than you is dangerous, and not to do so until they’re grown up and trained to fight. I hope that's enough.  The other adults around didn't chime in, so now I'm worried they think along the same lines.

Anyway, nothing happened today.  Herald Hottie stayed home and did stuff not in the stables, I didn’t run into anyone scary, and I came home to Ethelathe.  After putting the boys in bed and all that, I grabbed my journal and headed up to the overlook.  At some point in the future, everything I can see from here will be under tons of snow and ice.  My borrowed cottage, the chantry, the stables, everything. I’ve only been here for three weeks, but I’ve made a few friends.  How many of them are going to be here then?  Will they remember to take care of each other? 

In just three weeks, Feren’s gone from being beaten up to carrying weapons to defend others. I’ve got two kids that have gone from shrinking at shadows to wanting to be brave “like you”.  Marta, Philomena, Leorah, and Jailyn are standing up straight and have length to their strides.  Is this a good thing?  I have to hope so.  Commander Cullen took us seriously.  Maybe we really can do more together to make ourselves better.  Hell, I don’t know.  I just know I can’t stand to see anyone beat down like they have been.  It’s not right.

They’re all out there, bright spots in a somewhat dull night.  They’re safe tonight.  Again.  No one is hurt.  No one is afraid.  If I’ve done nothing else, I’ve had a hand in the elves of Haven having had two nights in a row where they can rest, safe and whole.  I guess that’s not the worst thing someone can say about their life, right?

Anyway, I’m very maudlin today, and feeling my mortality.  I’ll just blow the visibility off this thing and head for bed.  Goodnight, baby girl.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love the fact that "I" don't get what has actually happened. Sometimes when you're buried in the middle of something, you don't see the bigger picture. It's going to come back to bite "me" a bit, soon. Especially now that the Herald's back. This character is running away with me.


	30. Day 25, Afternoon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Treated differently, fighting with Adan, and Inquisibabe is an inquisibust.

Day 25, afternoon:

I tried to take Mika’s kitchen duty today.  I like kitchen duty. It’s warm, it smells good, and you get the leftover bits.  However, when I got to the kitchens, Cook (yes, that’s her name, I think her surname, but you never know) immediately started asking what I need and apologizing for working me so hard before.  She hadn’t known who I was, you see.  I told her I was here to work for Mika, and Cook was scandalized!  If I said Mika needed a day off, then OF COURSE she could have one.  I didn’t need to come here and work. She shooed me out of her kitchen with a half a loaf of BUTTERED bread shoved into my hands.  The only things I could think were “that woman should be a general” and “what the hell just happened” as the door shut literally in my face.

So I shrugged my shoulders, basically, and went to help the messengers in the healing and magery tents.  They always need workers, right?  I was chased out of there too!  Asking what I need from the healers, telling me that they will surely treat any elven injuries, and I needn’t be worried for that.  I gave Philomena and Marta my bread, and headed off.  I received the same sort of wary welcome/release situation at the scullery, the sewing room, and grrr the stable.  In every place I was recognized and tittered at and apologized at and reassured like I needed some sort of coddling.  So I went to see Adan.  I’ll admit, I went around the back in case everyone’s favorite apostate was standing outside.

Adan told me with a wry chuckle that by stepping between Cullen and Tanya (which I didn't do. Feren and Gethon did that), and being the one sent for to resolve an issue, then taking Cullen and the recruit to task, I’d set myself up as a recognizable face of Haven’s elves.  Well, shit.  I’d kind of hoped they’d let it go. You know, I’d wanted to hear Adan laugh, but not at my expense!  Damn, the multiverse has a perverse sense of humor.  Get what you ask for, and don’t like it. 

He then proceeded to ask if I needed any potions, the smirking ass, and I sassily told him I had my own, and better, at home.  Oops.  He stopped futzing with the stuff on the table, looked at me, and asked where I got potions from.  I told him I kind of made my own, with my own recipe, and a nice poultice, too.  And told him Harritt was using the poultice at the forge.  His eyebrows nearly hit his hairline.  Apparently there hadn’t been any medicine requests from the forge or trips to the healer’s tents from the forge for over a week.  He’d chalked it up to Harritt’s people being more careful. 

So, I’m a bit of a bitch sometimes, so I pointed out that he’d had samples of my work for almost that long himself.  I pointed at one of the first aid kits he had stacked on his shelving. He hastily untied the knots and pulled apart the little poultice packet.  He sniffed it, and touched it to his tongue like in those bad cop shows, and then the bloody blighter CUT HIMSELF WITH A KNIFE to try it. I immediately grabbed the little perfume bottle, called him an obnoxious cretin, and told him to drink.  Immediately, damn it.  So he did.  And it worked.  I then “had a little chat” with him about hurting my favorite apothecary.

Now I know full well that my potions aren’t going to be good for battle wounds or serious situations, especially not in the doses in those little bottles.  However, the first aid kits aren’t FOR battle wounds or serious situations.  They’re for the little stuff.  Cut fingers, twisted ankles, burns, and other regular work related injuries.  Adan, however, was a little more complimentary than that, albeit at the top of his lungs and apparently angry. We were in the middle of a mostly friendly argument about whether it’s smart to just cut your hands when one is an important member of the inquisition or if it was okay to just keep healing knowledge to yourself when he got riled up and the bellowing started. I think we were at “I didn’t keep anything to myself, half the people around here are carrying my work” followed by “and who the hell taught you to make potions anyway” and I responded “you did” and he started with the did nots.  I was about to tell him that’d I’d learned by watching him when a head popped in the window.  Inquisibabe grinned at us and asked if it was a private argument or if anyone could join in. 

Well, shit, as Varric would say.  I probably looked like a fish with my mouth hanging open like that.  Adan was just as bad, because he started stuttering my lord over and over interspersed with some unintelligible apologies.  Inquisibabe laughed at us and came around to the door.  He told us we sounded like an old married couple, and that we could be heard at Leliana’s tent.  Then he told me I looked pretty when I blushed like that.  I stammered an apology and started to head for the door.  He pulled his head out of the window and was standing in the doorway when I opened it. “You’re Chrissy, right?”

I confirmed my name and was trying to figure out how to get past him when he grabbed my hand (hard. Ow!).  He pulled it up to his face for a kiss while I was trying to pull it away and didn’t release it until he had done so. He called me beautiful, too, like that made any sort of difference when being manhandled.  And I have to learn how to control my tongue.  “It seems it’s not only recruits that think they can kiss elven women without permission,” I said.  While he and Adan stared at me in shock, I curtsied, said a curt "Herald", and got out of there.  Had to walk past Solas, who stared at me with his head tilted sideways like he does.  I carefully avoided eye contact with THAT one.

I stayed home the rest of the day.  Do you blame me?  I’m probably headed for the stocks.  I told Mika what had happened out of earshot of the kids, and told her I was heading for my little nook to think and calm down.  I’m currently watching the sunset.  It’s really eerie around the breach.  The pink sky and the green breach make something pretty but scary between them.  More scary than the breach itself.  Like the breach is eating reality, piece by piece.  I’ll probably write more later, but I’m going to do some more breathing and fat girl yoga.  I need to shake off this horrible itching.


	31. Day 25, Evening

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The rest of the hellacious day, and the delayed logistics.

Day 25, Evening:

Eadras made his way up to my nook and sat on my rock shortly after sunset.  He didn’t say anything for a long time.  I looked at him.  “I’m not going to apologize,” I said.

He looked surprised.  “No one is going to ask you to, Dalen.  At least not one of us. We would like to know why you were alone, though.  It was your rule to go in pairs or triads.”

I didn’t know what to tell him, so I told him the truth and what I’d decided this afternoon.  First, I hadn’t thought about not being alone because I was with Adan, and Adan’s safe.  I consider him one of ours, even if he is human. Eadras nodded at that, and verbally agreed.  Second, if an elf is to be attacked, it has to be me.  THAT shocked him.

You get it, though, don’t you?  If someone attacks Feren, they’re attacking a strong man who can defend himself, who has a talent that needs to be nurtured, and he’s a nobody to the humans.  He's not sympathetic, he's a threat, and he'll be eliminated. If someone attacks the girls, it’s going to be when they are alone, not when they’re in pairs or groups.  So either they’ll be accused of regretting a dalliance or blown off altogether because they’re nobodies with little standing.  There are whispers about Tanya leading that recruit on even now.  If they try it on Garalen, somebody’s going to die, and again it will fall back on all of us.  (Eadras started nodding thoughtfully at that point.)  However, I’ve set myself up, without meaning to, as the “face” of Haven’s elves, according to Adan.  If someone attacks me, they’re going to be perceived as attacking because of that.  If nothing else, I can spin it that way.  It might just be someone stupid seeing an elf they can hurt or “romance”, but it’s not likely to be seen as that anymore. 

By sticking to my standards, even with the Herald, I can make them stick for everyone.  Cullen’s promised to school the warriors.  Leliana is never going to tolerate that kind of thing out of her people.  I just have to get the rest of them to understand.  Worst case, if the entire population of elves is in danger because of me, the elves can leave.  They can find a place, or make one, somewhere.  The go bags are packed.  It might be safer for all of them anyway, since there’s that whole after-the-breach thing to get through.  I didn’t discuss that, though.  Just the safer part. 

If someone wants to hurt the elves, from now on, they’re going to go through me.  And because I’m short and fat, with twig arms and no weapons training, and therefore completely incapable of effectively hurting someone back, it’ll backfire on them.  I’m just not dangerous, and publicly hurting me is going to be like stepping on a nug.  Nobody really cares about nugs, until there’s one in particular they like.  I smiled, because I was thinking of Leliana and Schmooples, but he didn’t know that and I’m not going to say anything.

He sighed.  I explained to him that I don’t know how to be any other way.  I squared off with Adan because I’m not going to cower from anybody.  I didn’t MEAN to yell at the almighty and thrice-blessed Herald of Andraste, but when he grabbed my hand hard enough to hurt and wouldn’t let go, I lost my temper.  “Where do you come from, dalen, where you have no fear?” Eadras asked.  I’ve done a lot of thinking about this today.  Either I’m going to get home to my girl or I’m not.  I don't have any control over that at this point, and I don’t know what mechanism might work.  Hey, it’s possible that I’ll go home as soon as someone kills me.  This could be one huge dream and I’m going to wake up. The fact is that I’d feel ashamed of myself when I did get home or wake up if I wasn’t doing something about the situation.

I looked at him and said “Never assume I’m not afraid. But if we can change how we’re treated here at Haven, while the Inquisition is still young, the new way of treating us will spread with it, Eadras. I have to try, do you see?” I stood up and dusted the snow off my butt. He tucked tighter into his clothes. He must be freezing. I took off my quilted jacket and put it around him. I’ve not been cold in a long time, and I didn’t need it. “Don’t argue,” I admonished him, and he didn’t, even though he pursed his lips like he wanted to.

I got a surprise when I got back to Ethelathe Cottage, though.  Andrew, back again.  He’s known me only 4 days.  Why is he always here?  Anyway, he was quite deferential again.  Ugh.  I greeted him sweetly and asked how I could help him.  He told me that the Herald would like to speak to me.  Andrew would personally guarantee my personal safety.  When I tried to demur, saying I’d make myself available after he got back from Val Royeaux, Andrew chuckled.  “The dwarf said you’d say that.  I’m supposed to tell you that he’s not going to Val Royeaux until he has the chance to apologize.”  Shit.

I let Andrew inside the cottage.  There were more people here today.  Damn.  No real room to sit.  I told them I had to go on an errand so the inquisition could get back to work.  Andrew would make sure I was fine.  Leorah immediately told me to wait and lifted a tunic she’d been embroidering.  She just kind of shoved it down over my head before I could say anything.  What is with this girl and attacking me with clothes?  She patted my cheek and told me I couldn’t go see important people in my undertunic.  “Fine,” I huffed, and she smiled. 

Garalen stood up and made to go with us.  I was about to say something, but she’s really scary when she smiles like that, yeah?  So I zipped it.  I muttered something on the walk back to the town proper about never wanting to be a martyr, and Garalen heard me.  She chimed in with “let me do my job, then, Chrissy, and you won’t be.”  Andrew paused and asked exactly what I wouldn’t be, but we didn’t answer him.  I shivered, because I was walking next to a Templar, but they both moved closer, probably assuming I was scared.  Admittedly, I was.

My steps faltered a moment when I realized that I was alone in the company of a Templar I’d known for 4 days and an assassin who probably worked for Leliana, the Dread Wolf, or some other organization.  I stopped and looked at Garalen.  “You won’t hurt anyone tonight,” I said.  “Right?”

She looked at me thoughtfully, and said “If they hurt you, someone’s getting their balls cut off.”

“I can live with that.  No killing, though.”

Andrew broke in with a “what are you talking about?”

“Never mind,” we ladies said at the same moment. We understood what we meant, and were on the same page.  And we started walking again.  Isn’t cluelessness adorable in some human men?  He started muttering under his breath about women wanting to be mysterious as we continued.

I was expecting to be escorted to the Tavern or the Chantry or something.  I was instead taken to the Herald’s cottage. I thought hard about the image I was projecting, and stopped at the top of the stairs.  I looked at Andrew.  “I am not a supplicant.  I’ll wait here.”  You’d think he’d be used to this by now, but he sort of hissed my name, while glancing at the Herald’s door.  Garalen made a choking sound.  I looked at Andrew and settled my feet to wait.  He ran his hand through his hair, frustrated, and walked up to the door.  It opened as he raised his hand to knock.

“She’s right, you know,” said the Herald.  “My apologies should be public, just as my offense was.”  Well, well, well, color me surprised.  He walked up to me, leaving about three feet between us.  “I am deeply sorry for grabbing your hand, and for kissing your person without permission.”  And he BOWED.  If I were the swooning type…  But anyway.

I smiled.  “Your apology is accepted, your Honor, and very much appreciated,” I said.  I can be flowery, too.  I curtsied to him, and went to take a step back, when he held out his arm.

“Would you walk with me, Lady Chrysopal?  I would appreciate the chance to speak with you.”

Huh.  I thought, alright, let’s see where this goes.  So I rather gingerly took his arm and let him stroll me around Haven.  The lightbulb came on.  He was showing everyone that he and I were cordial, letting everyone see his apology first and then acting friendly with me.  We talked about inconsequential things like how pretty the breach looked at night and how deadly things were often beautiful.  Other stuff.  Weather, horses.  After a few minutes, he told me he’d be heading to Val Royeaux to meet with the Chantry Mothers there tomorrow.  I wished him luck with them. He then requested I meet with Lady Montilyet while he was gone.  Well, what can I do but agree to that?

He walked me back to Haven’s gates.  As he bowed to me in farewell, I noticed that we’d been followed the whole time by Andrew, Cassandra, Varric, and Garalen.  And there were eyes in every window.  I took two steps back, turned, and headed out the gate.  As I approached Ethelathe, I heard many voices singing.  We Shall Overcome indeed, in twenty sweet voices.  I was greeted warmly, told them everything went well, and said I was going to record it while it was still fresh in my mind. 

I went back outside and Andrew was still standing there.  “You are the most infuriating woman.” he said.

“I’m fifteen years older than you and stubborn.  Did you think I was going to go groveling for an apology?”  I gently explained that if I’d gone into the Herald’s home, it would have looked far more like an assignation than anything else.  For the sake of my little family, I couldn't afford to let that happen.  He looked thoughtful for a moment, and nodded. I thanked him for guarding me, and watched him walk off. He did the two step back thing again.  What is with that?

Well, that was my hellaciously stressful day.  Can I have another easy one tomorrow, please?

Logistics:

Current estimated timeline:

  * ~~14 Herald leaves for Hinterlands~~
  * ~~20 Mother Giselle Arrives~~
  * ~~23 Herald back~~
  * ~~24 Day off~~
  * 25 completely unnecessary day frickin' off, damnit. Quit STALLING.
  * 26-34? Val Royeaux
  * 35? Day off in Haven
  * 36-42? Fetch mages in redcliffe? Therinfall redoubt, 36-44
  * 45? mages arrive (templar arrival date 49)
  * 46? Prep for breach (Templar 50)
  * 47? Seal the breach (Templar 51)



Current medkit count: 119 as of Day 24.  Actually, 118, since Adan opened one.  Enough for all the elves, the tranquil, and all the children, as well as my preferred humans, with a few extras.

Anyway, I’m going in now.  I feel like company.  Good night, my darling daughter.  I miss you so much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Turns out the Herald was nicer than I expected. Chrissy almost seems like she's playing "the game" in this one, but honestly, the character is winging it. She's reacting to her family being under threat, and trying to do whatever she can to protect them, and it's dragging her places she really doesn't want to go. It doesn't help that Leorah and the others are pushing the "important" label with the humans around them in subtle and not-so-subtle ways when Chrissy's not looking. It makes a person feel safer when they can point to someone else and say "they're in charge."


	32. Day 26

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Inquisitor is off to Val Royeaux, and Adan doesn't want to argue anymore.

Day 26:

I awoke early this morning.  The sky was very clear, and when I stepped outside my breath frosted the air.  I’ve always loved mornings like that.  After letting the young man on Ethelathe watch know where I was going, I headed up to Harritt’s. (I don’t know the young man’s name.  I don’t think we’ve ever actually been introduced.  Actually, he’s an elf, but a grown male elf.  Man’s good enough.) Somehow I knew Harritt would treat me like he always did.  Thank God I was right. 

He was up early too, checking the shoes on the horses.  The Herald and everyone were leaving today after all, and apparently going to go early.  I helped the stable hands get the horses tacked and ready.  We were finished by the time Inquisibabe and his entourage arrived.  I ended up being one of the hands holding a horse for a guard.  “Hold the horse still, you stupid girl.”  Well well.  Assholes remain.

I didn’t say anything, but Varric noticed who I was.  The guard person continued muttering imprecations about my character, which I really didn’t mind since there was nothing really personal about it.  Honestly, I figured the guard was afraid of his horse, since it was barely moving and this guy couldn’t seem to get on.  He was on his umpteenth try, and not doing well.  Next thing, I hear an incredulous “Chrissy?”

Apparently Varric had clued Inquisibabe in to the fact that I was one of the twenty five people milling about and doing the work.  Well, things went sideways.  Poor guard guy, who was already too nervous to steady the horse, got more nervous, and because he was stuck with one foot in the stirrup, he didn’t land well when the horse shied.  I told Samuel Trevelyan I’d be right with him, and squatted down to ask if the guy in the dirt if he was okay.  He told me it was my fault he fell, and called me a stupid knife ear.  Someone sucked in air behind me, but before anyone said anything, I acted.  I dropped the horses reins in the guard’s lap and said, “Guess you don’t want my help mounting, since you’re being rude.” I was tolerating the rest of it because it wasn't, you know, PERSONAL, but then he decided to poke. I poked back, okay?

Dude on the ground started to sputter, but I ignored him.  I dusted myself off and stood up, turning to inquisibabe and arching a brow.  Before I could say anything, Herald Hottie burst into laughter.  I was quaking inside, but begin as you mean to continue, right?  So as he chortled on the back of his horse, I very sweetly asked if there was something I could do for him.  He shook his head and told me to be good while he was gone.  One of the human hands helped Guard Dude up and onto his horse, and they all headed out.

“One of these days you’re going to do that to the wrong person,” said Harritt behind me. I looked him right in the eye and informed him that everyone has to die sometime.  Until then, I’d keep teaching people how to treat people.  He smiled and told me that people like me are dangerous.  I don’t see how, but he’s entitled to his opinion.  I know I’m on borrowed time in a borrowed world, and the best hope for me to get home just might be pissing the wrong person off.  I gathered up his farrier’s tools, wiped them with the oiled rag, and wrapped them in his leather case while he looked on, apparently bemused.   “Is there anything else I can help with?”  He smiled and shook his head, but then asked me to make sure the men and the water troughs are filled with water.  Finally!  Something to do.

So I worked at Harritt’s all morning doing odd jobs.  After the midday meal I went up to Seggrit’s shop.  He didn’t need anything, so I continued on to Adan’s place.  I knocked on the door and heard a curt “come in”, so I did.  I cheekily asked if he’d like to finish our argument now that we don’t have any interruptions.  He looked at me and said he’d rather I told him how I made the elfroot medicines.  I glanced around, and he’d undone all six of the medikits I’d given him.  Pieces were spread all over, and there were little bits of my poultice and potion in little glass jars.  Thinking there might be something wrong with them, I took a large breath and LOOKED at them.  ShinyGlowy.

I told him that I’d just followed what he did.  I crushed the elfroot and brewed it into a tea, adding alcohol to stabilize at the end.  He muttered something I didn’t catch and asked me to demonstrate.  So I did, you know?  He provided the materials, and I presented him with a small cauldron to strain at the end of about 2 hours.  He filled a dropper full of the stuff and placed a single drop on the tongue of a mouse sitting in a cage on the wall.  The mouse shortly sat up and started running around.  Adan started writing in a notebook.  I went to take my leave, because I was hella tired now, but he stopped me.  “Where did you learn to make this?”

“I watched you, actually, about a week and a half after the breach.”

“You learned to do this after watching me once?”

“Well, I watched you make three batches that day, but yes.” He shook his head and asked that I come visit him again soon.  Apparently I give him a headache, and he needs to think.  Okay.  I get like that too.

I got home, did the usual evening things.  Dinner, school, singalong, bedtime.  It was a good day.  Did my breathing and yoga thing.  My people are numerous, safe, and healthy.  YAY!

Goodnight, mija.  I miss you so much.  Sleep well.


	33. Day 27

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Missing home and weird dreams.

Day 27:

You know how I said I’ve been having completely normal dreams since I’ve been here?  I think that’s changing.  I’m remembering more, for one.  A lot more. (That’s been going on gradually for a while, but it’s becoming very obvious when I can wake and remember hours of dreams.)  For two, my dreams seem to be split.  One type is disjointed and weird, like normal dreams, mixing things I know together into a new whole.  The other is strange.  It’s like exploring a new place, but standing still and watching as things build up and tear down.  Sort of a cross between ages of empires and the sims on free will. 

I used to do lucid dreaming back home because it’s the best way to combat nightmares.  If you can change your dreams, you can stop or change nightmares before they become too scary. For the first type, everything works as expected.  I can add, subtract, change, etc. everything in them.  The other is more like watching a movie.  A really funky movie.  Fast forward, rewind, pause.  The colors shift as the emotions shift.  You can take a small step to the side and faces that were filled with zeal suddenly become menacing.  Maniacal laughter becomes inconsolable sobbing.  It’s very difficult to understand what’s going on, even as you see it with your own eyes.

Well, I don’t know what to do about it.  I’d prefer to stay to my own dreamscape, thank you, and avoid the rest of it.  I would especially appreciate it if the painful memories would stop cropping up so often. In both types.

Anyway.  Today was a fairly nice day.  Leorah absconded with my old tunic, I think.  All I’ve got left are the fancier things she’s been putting together.  I can’t work in fancy embroidered stuff or a dress!  I put on the plainest of my three choices, to sniggers from Garalen.  “Can’t have a keeper with dishpan hands, after all,” she chortled at me.  Not a Friggin’ Keeper.  Need some sort of knowledge for that.  Fancy dreams in the sky of what once was.  What once was happened to be a nightmare so awful that someone tore the world in two attempting to stop it.  Fancy spires built on the subjugation of “lesser” elves.

All I really did today was be conspicuously in public and alone.  I checked on my people, harvested some elfroot, pointed Harritt to some iron ore just lying about on the ground.  Standard evening as well. 

I’m maudlin again.  Don’t mind me.  It’s the 27th day here, and I’ve missed my little girl’s recital.  If time runs there as it does here, it was last night.  I didn't even notice.  Didn't even think of her except to say goodnight to her.  Thank God for the Tweedles.  I think hugging them is the best therapy I can get right now.

I have nothing to say.  My heart hurts, and I’m just doing the maintenance things.  Good night.

 


	34. Day 28

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which I'm told just what I've done, and survive tea with Josephine and Leliana.

Day 28:

Inquisibutt should be about halfway to Val Royeaux.  Maybe he’ll come home with Sera.

I’ve been doing some thinking.  Everything started escalating when Andrew started showing up. He’s the one who, intentionally or not, outed me to the people I’ve been avoiding for almost a month.  I sat down with Eadras and pointed that out.  Eadras thinks the difference is that Andrew’s a Templar, and they’re firstly, human.  Andrew has no fear that wading in to pull someone off a girl is going to cause trouble, because it’s not, for him.  He’s also going to take for granted that he can call someone to take care of her.  Apparently, it would have happened eventually, because I’d been doing that from the beginning.

He told me that the day the Herald woke up, I stepped up.  First Leorah, then Feren.  Every time someone came to me hurt, I took care of them.  When they had troubles I listened.  I arranged for people to swap places, and the others saw that and followed suit.  He told me I behave like a human, sometimes, and looked offended when I laughed at him.  Well, hell.  If I’m going to shake people up, I’m going to do it right.  So I looked at him and asked, “What’s the difference between humans and elves except for the meat suit the spirit rides in?”

I love doing that to people.  The look on his face was priceless.  Had he never considered it before?  Anyway, I made my farewells at that point.  I had stuff to do.  I put on the tunic I’d met the Inquisibabe for our walk in, and told Garalen I was going to talk to Ambassador Montilyet.  I set up an idea with her, to see if Josie paid more attention than others.

Garalen and I walked up to Josie’s office in the Chantry.  Garalen knocked on the door, and when told to come in, she asked Josie if she had time to see Chrysopal.  Josie failed the test.  She immediately got up, said “Oh, I’ve been so looking forward to meeting you!” and clasped Garalen’s hands.  Then a dulcet voice behind me said, “That’s not Chrysopal, Josie. This one is.” And that’s how I discovered the spymaster standing behind me.  I think I squeaked.

Well, Josephine is a lovely and diplomatic person.  She’s so SWEET.  She reminds me of a grandma, but she’s very young.  Can’t be more than twenty eight or thirty. She smoothly apologized for her gaffe and introduced herself.  I was far less sanguine.  By the time she was done, I found myself fully in her room with the spymaster blocking the exit.  Garalen was against the wall near Minaeve, who was oblivious to what was going on.  I truly felt trapped.

Josie invited me to sit and poured tea.  She went on about how she had been looking forward to talking to me for a long time.  “Yes,” chimed in the Nightingale, “we’ve been looking for you for weeks, actually.”  Josie admonished her not to scare me.  I glanced back at Garalen and then replied that I’d assumed she’d known exactly where I was and what I was doing for those weeks, since no one had evicted us from the cottage she obviously knew about.

She actually smiled at that! She said she was glad I wasn’t stupid.  The tenor of the room lightened considerably at that point.  They had known where I was.  Leliana had been watching me because I ran after the testing she had done.  They would have liked to have had me working in records and such, but I’ve now made that much more difficult.  “You don’t have the time to devote to records with your other obligations.”  What obligations?  I didn’t ask. 

Anyway, Leliana had a few questions about what our goals were.  She’d heard our slogans, and was double checking.  Apparently “invisible, interchangeable, and essential” and “the breach must be sealed, the divine must be avenged, and the spice must flow” have percolated to every important ear here.  Josie took great pains to tell me they were trying to make sure trade got back on its feet.  Both asked about the conditions we were working under and how I’d effected such a drastic improvement in how much work was getting done. Apparently by doing what we've been doing, production increased by almost 13%.

I explained that I just had people swap to the jobs they were good at or liked.  Every job had to be covered, but between all of us, we also managed to give everyone at least one day off this month.  I kept the health aspect to myself until it was brought up, and then I just said that healthy people who weren’t scared get more accomplished, so I was going to handle the scary bits and make sure they weren’t hurt to the best of my ability.  I looked at Josie and told her flat out that elves have talents, likes, and skills, just like humans do.  It’s not fair to take an artist and make her scrub privies, or consign a pastry chef to the sewing room. 

Leliana said I should chat with Solas.  AS IF.  I look at a group of people who look like me, having troubles and feel less than they could be, and try to help.  He looks at the same group and pontificates about how they’ve failed.  I have no interest in bringing him into this.  They were both a bit taken aback.  Josie covered with some other questions.

Anywho, the outcome is that at some point in the near future, the assignments of elves is going to come from Ethelathe instead of Threnn.  They’ve also offered some tents and bedding to expand our domain or to move into town.  There’s an empty cottage going spare, across from Solas’, and there’s room for tents behind. With twenty three people now trying to cram into that cottage, it’s a bit tight, yes, but I have no interest in being that close to itchy with eyes.  I also don’t want to be in such close proximity to the Chantry.  I accepted the tents and bedding, and got out of there with my skin intact.

I took the time to stop and get a few new books from the rejected cottage.  They’re all ready for some new ones.  As Garalen followed me back to Ethelathe, I asked her if she worked for Nightingale or someone else or a combination.  She just sighed and said she couldn’t tell me that.  Her job was to watch and protect, and to keep her mouth shut.  Someone has a vested interest in my doings.

Tea with Josie and Leliana, with all my fingers and toes intact.  Leliana’s probably still very suspicious, but we’re alive, and we have at least unofficial sanction.  Today was a good day.  I’m going to decompress outside for a while, do my fat girl yoga, and then I’ll go in to do usual night things.  Blowing the visibility off the notebook and saying goodnight to my baby now.

 


	35. Day 29

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Snowball fight, and Inquisition makes good on promises

Day 29:

It SNOWED.  It’s still snowing, actually.  Been snowing all day. 

Gethon took a day off today.  He, the Tweedles, Daniel, and I went out near the practice grounds and built snow forts.  Surprise surprise, Cullen and his men were out there harassing horse food again.  You can only watch someone stab a bale of hay so many times before it starts to look ridiculous.  Anyway, the boys were throwing snowballs back and forth when Dee (accidentally?) hit one of the younger soldiers in the breastplate.  I don’t know if we were lucky or not, but the soldier grabbed a fistful of snow and lobbed back.

Well, this started stuff.  Whenever Cullen wasn’t watching, the boys and the recruits were trading snowballs.  It became more of a game of “avoid the commander” than hit people with snowballs after a while.  I was sitting further up on the hill, supervising, so I saw the smirk on Cullen’s face.  He’d watch the entire time a Tweedle (yes, I include Daniel and Gethon in that) was setting up their snowballs and then turn around as soon as they were done.  Then he’d sporadically turn around when it was his men’s turn to get them back.  This went on for half an hour, to the intense joy of my boys.

It was about Midday by then.  I figured Cullen was playing the game, so he might as well get FULLY involved. And everyone needed to stop for lunch anyway.  So I got myself a nice pile of snow in my arms, snuck up to the side of the tents in the middle, and waited for him to watch the kids again.  The soldiers watched me do this.  I’m not that good at sneaking.  But not one of them said a word.  When Cullen turned his head to let the boys attack, I tossed the snow straight up in the air.  I just threw snow NEAR him, not AT him. It landed squarely on the top of his curly head.  And body.  It was everywhere.  It was on his face, his clothes, in his hair.  He looked like he’d been dusted with white glitter on top of the clumps of snow everywhere.

Everyone went quiet, because they didn’t know how to react.  Cullen looked adorable with a pile of snow on his head and ice clinging to his eyebrows and lashes.  He brushed the snow off his eyes and looked around.  I’d ducked behind the tent while this happened.  “Alright, who did that,” he said in a VERY calm voice.  And those traitors, the Tweedles AND the soldiers, all pointed to my hiding place.  He leaned around the tent to look at me.  I told him he was giving the Tweedles an unfair advantage and my side was losing, so I was taking him out of battle. 

I am SO GLAD he had a sense of humor.  It started with a lip twitch, and then he leaned down to grab a fistful of snow.   He calmly grabbed my arm before I know what he was going to do, and smushed the snow right into my nose!  So, shrieking and laughing on all side commenced, and we devolved into a bit of a free for all snow fight, with most of the recruits on my side and Cullen and the veterans fighting along with my boys.

It lasted only a few minutes, I’m sure, before a runner came out and stood, shocked, at the tableau we presented.  He hesitantly asked for the Commander and handed off some paperwork.  Cullen waved the rest of us off and told us to get the midday meal.  Well, he was probably telling his men, but “my” team dragged the rest of us with them.  First time in a long time I actually ate in the mess tent instead of grabbing the go rations. 

After that I walked around the various work stations while Daniel went back to the Children's hut and Gethon took the Tweedles home.  Everyone seems fine.  Flyssa in the tavern heard about the snow by the time I got there and told me she could never be so brave as to put snow on the commander.  I told her she should try it sometime, because he looks adorable with snow in his eyelashes. 

By the time I got back to Ethelathe cottage at mid-afternoon, there was a bevy of soldiers putting up three tents behind the cottage!  I hadn’t quite taken the advisors seriously that they’d provide like that.  Not only that, they put actual braziers in them, and enough bedrolls that we could all have a blanket both below and above our bodies.  Then I saw the stacks of cots! We weren't to sleep just on blankets! I thanked each of the recruits that put up the tents with a medikit.  “For those things too small to visit a real healer about,” I said. 

It was at that point that Cullen and several other people came up with cordwood in their arms.  They piled it next to the cottage door, enough for at least a week of fires!  I thanked Cullen and his men profusely and handed out the medikits to them, too.  The commander asked if I would walk with him.

He paced next to me.  After a few moments, he told me he hadn’t been in a snowball fight in years.  His recruits were happier than they’d been in days, and he wanted to thank me for taking their minds off the hole in the sky for a few minutes today.  I told him that he started it when he took sides against his recruits instead of stopping the game.  I just upped the ante.  He said if his recruits could be beaten by little boys, they needed the practice. I thanked him again, and he said if I need anything or have any troubles with any of his men, I was to let him know immediately. 

As he left, a bundled up Josephine showed up.  She expressed pleasure that the tents were already up.  These weren’t the little two man tents, either.  These were large six man tents.  I told her that the soldiers had put them up for us.  Josephine asked if we really needed to be so separate from everyone else.  I had to think for a bit.  I told her that we don’t want an alienage.  We don’t really want to be separate, but we are safer among our own kind, for now. 

I walked her back towards the Haven gates and tried to explain.  In Haven proper, most humans had at least a rudimentary place to sleep that was off the floor or the ground.  Most elves did not even have blankets to call their own.  Most of my people, I said, currently carry everything they own in a small satchel they can keep with them or in the cottage.  Most regular servants have at least a chest or trunk. Now, at Ethelathe, they had a safe place to leave their things.  A safe place to sleep where they weren’t below someone else.  The braziers will be a godsend, as well as the wood. I told her I'd taken the Tweedles out of the children's hut because they'd been kept away from the fires. If I wanted my people to be warm, we had to go where we were allowed to be so. We’d been very careful not to take anything that would be needed elsewhere, and primarily used body heat.

She looked shocked!  Apparently it had never occurred to her that people were doing without warm clothing and blankets here at Haven.  They’d been passing blankets out to the refugees in the Hinterlands, and she was going to ensure that enough for everyone got back here, too.  It’s easy to overlook us, I told her.  Even she’d not been able to tell one elf from another.  I’d delivered messages to her on several occasions over the last few weeks, as part of my duties, and she’d never noticed.  She fell silent, and I walked her all the way to the chantry doors.

As I headed back out, Garalen appeared.  “What happened to not being alone?”

“I told Eadras that if anyone wants to target elves, then they need to target me.”

She frowned at that.  I let it go.  I greeted Seggrit with a smile as I passed, and he grinned back, passing me a handful of paper and a new charcoal stick wrapped up in some really pretty red cloth.  “It’s the wrong color.”  And he winked.  Apparently Mika had told him I was getting low on supplies, and he’s been sending odd shaped and off color remnants to Leorah when he couldn’t sell them.  He and Mika are still a bit of an item.  His eyes soften when he speaks of her.

My big shock was when I got all the way back to Ethelathe.  Garalen had me close my eyes before she would open the door.  She led me a few steps into the room, turned me a bit, and told me to open them.  In front of me was a curtain hanging from the ceiling.  She pulled it aside and behind it there was a small living area, with a desk, a small bed, an end table, and two chairs.  There were already papers piled up on the desk, and furs on the bed.  The tub was in here next to the wall, as well.  I turned and looked at her.  Honestly, I was overwhelmed.  She led me to the other side of the wall, and there was a set of bunkbeds, also outfitted.  Several bedrolls and folded cots lined the walls.  Staple ingredients hung in the corners and sat in sacks at a table near the window.  Barrels and crates filled half the loft. She told me they’d taken a vote, and thought I should get a bed as well as the necessary stuff in my workspace, and the Tweedles needed beds, too.

I haven’t slept in a bed since I woke up in the healer’s tents on one of their cots.  However, Eadras is the Hahren here.  So I suggested he get the bed.  Eadras piped up from the corner that he was taking the spot next to the fire, and if I tried to take it from him, he’d bite me.  I guess my little room is the farthest spot from the heat.  Doesn’t bother me.  So tonight, I’m writing my journal at a desk, in a chair, in a “room” of my own.  The Tweedles are sleeping soundly.  Garalen, Eadras, and Leorah have taken up residence in front of the fire.  The loft is empty of people. Everyone else is out in the tents.  I’m assured they’re very warm and comfortable.  We have enough space for everyone to stretch out, brand new bedrolls, the means to cook, and full, warm bellies.  There were only minor injuries today.  Everyone is healthy and excited.  This is the nicest alienage I’ve ever heard of in Thedas.

Good night, kiddo.  Eighteen more days, at least, until I get home to you, if I can.  I was apparently way off on my estimates at the beginning of this trip.


	36. Day 30, Sometime before dawn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Someone thinks we're using magic to influence people and wants to put a stop to it.

Day 30, sometime before dawn:

I woke up before dawn to an intense feeling of ice.  I got up and tiptoed over to the window.  Three men in Templar armor were staring at my little home.  I jumped when I heard in my ear “Don’t go out there.”  I whirled around and Garalen was right there.  She’d come up behind me as I looked out. 

“They’ve been out there for about five minutes, just staring.  How’d you know they were there?” She scowled at me.  I wasn’t ready to talk about that, so I just said I’d had a bad feeling.  I put my eyes back on the Templars.  None of them was Andrew, thank goodness.  As I watched, they all sort of looked at each other and nodded.  They raised their hands, and it was like shards of invisible ice raining down. 

I think I gasped, and Garalen pulled me back.  It felt like someone was pulling and hitting some piece of me that I couldn’t see.  It was like being punched under ice water, but it truly hurt.  I stumbled to the floor and put myself in Lotus.  Deep breathing exercises, exchanging the hurt pieces for the healthy energy between the shards around me.  When one is in pain, concentrating on breathing and other biofeedback techniques can be very effective.  I was just trying to cope with the pain, protecting myself from whatever they were doing.  It didn’t last long, and they left.  Garalen eyed me carefully as I stood up.  I told her I didn’t know what they were doing, but I was fine now.  She looked scared.  “What?” I asked her.  She just kept looking at me.  I looked at my hands, but nothing looked different. 

“The last time I saw a triad of Templars place an annulment, every mage in the area fell unconscious and stayed that way for days.”

“Andrew told me I wasn’t a mage,” I shrugged.  “I’m probably just barely a hedge mage enough to make potions.”

“Every hedge mage DIED, Chrissy.  You just shrugged it off in minutes.  Who ARE you?”

I looked at her.  “I’m nobody, Garalen.  We’re all nobody.  Beyond that, I awoke in the healer’s tents after the breach, and none of my memories match this place.  I’m as much in the dark about where I fit here and what I am as you are.”  She started speaking in an unfamiliar language.  Didn’t sound Qunari or Elvhen or any of the human Thedasian languages I’d heard.  Based on the tone, she was cursing.  Sounded sort of Germanish.  Maybe Anders?

I crossed my arms and patiently waited until she was done and asked if this meant she was going to kill me now.  She looked like I’d struck her.  She responded that she has never been asked to do so, and would not now, even if she had.  That’s nice to know.  Still wish I knew who she worked for.  I smiled at her and said that I bet the Templars would be mighty surprised to see us all up and about normally at the usual times.  She smiled that wicked grin of hers and told me she’d walk with me. She looked at me and said, enunciating very clearly, "I am your knife in the dark." Uh, what? And she walked off before I could say anything.

Anyway, I’m going back to bed.  See you later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The stuff I talk about has its basis in reality whenever possible. For those experiencing chronic pain, injury, and many other problems, biofeedback can be an effective tool for coping. To read more, see http://www.webmd.com/a-to-z-guides/biofeedback-therapy-uses-benefits


	37. Day 30, Evening

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where we ask some questions and get basically no answers.

Day 30, Evening:

At daybreak, there was a large pounding on the cottage door.  Eadras blearily opened the door to a frantic healer.  She went on about how she had to see to me before I got any worse.  I came out of my corner and asked what she had to see me about.  The look on her face was priceless.  I arched a brow and asked again.  She stuttered a little bit in shock and said something about being misinformed.  She left quickly without saying goodbye.  I exchanged a look with Garalen, who grinned.

I told Eadras that I wasn’t sure what she’d been on about.  (I had a good idea, of course, but I wasn’t SURE, and I didn’t want to worry everyone.)  We got breakfast up, and Garalen and I headed out.  I made my way up toward Adan’s.  I had a few questions.  I found him rushing my way.  He stopped short when he saw me.  He asked breathlessly if I was okay.  I told him I was fine, and he sagged, apparently with relief.  He launched into a breathless explanation that he’d heard I was seriously hurt and being taken to the healer tents.

I mentioned that he was the second person to come rushing toward me in concern today.  He stopped and then invited me up to his cottage for tea.  As I accepted, we headed that way.  Eyes peered out of the tents as we passed.  Flyssa was sweeping the stoop of the tavern and smiled with evident relief.  “I knew you weren’t a possessed heretic mage!” she called.

“I’ll try harder to become one tomorrow,” I teased back.  I received a grin in answer.

Once we got to Adan’s cottage, I closed the doors and windows.  “What exactly is an annulment and why was I hit with one last night?” I asked.

His eyes opened wide.  “An annulment is supposed to dampen magic and temporarily sever a mage’s connection to the fade.  It’s also sometimes a death blow.  You were hit with one?”

Garalen nodded gravely.  “Any idea why someone would get the idea she’s a mage?  She’s not exactly slinging spells about.”

Adan looked worried.  “She’s REALLY good at potions.”  He stopped and looked at me.  “Really good at potions.”  I must have looked confused.  “I haven’t seen a potion this good since back in the blight, and you made it in HOURS.  My potions steep for days, Chrissy.  Sometimes a week.  You just whip them up like they’re nothing.”

I sputtered something about watching him and just doing what he did, and he interrupted me, showing the multiple rows of jars under the table.  When he was picking up and putting down, he’d been grabbing different jars.  I’d been so focused on what his hands were doing and the itchiness, I hadn’t noticed.

He breathed a sigh.  “At least you’re not a mage.  I’d not have liked to see you incapacitated for days.”

“See, one of the Templars told me I wasn’t a mage days ago.  I’m not sure why they tried to de-mage me if they knew I wasn’t one,” I responded.

Garalen butted in with a wink at that point.  “You have a schedule to keep, Chrissy.  Let’s put you on display, shall we?”  Adan nodded at this and said that it was a very good idea to display me in public, healthy and whole.  It would prove I’m neither a mage or an abomination.  The Templars had to be trying to show me as one or the other.  I agreed, and Garalen and I left.

I meandered my way through camp.  I made sure to stop in to see every single elf in Haven.  Then I went out to be seen by the soldiers.  Finally, after being seen as healthy by probably everyone but the mages and Templars, I walked over toward the healer’s tents and their attendant ice-men.  I looked about until I saw the lady who’d shown up at my door first thing in the morning. 

She dropped a bowl she was carrying as I walked up, she was shaking so hard.  “I didn’t do anything.  I heard the rumors and just wanted to help.  I swear I didn’t do anything,” she babbled at me.

“I know.  You heard that I was some sort of rogue mage, and the Templars had laid down some sort of punishment, and you wanted to make sure I didn’t die.”  She nodded.  “I thank you for your concern, even if it was unnecessary.  If you ever need help from me, please feel free to stop by Ethelathe.  In fact, if you want a cup of tea and conversation, you would be welcome tomorrow afternoon.”  She nodded again.

I turned away and went out to where the Templars hung out.  They were all sans helmets at this point.  Several blanched to see me.  I asked politely where Andrew was.  One of the guys in front pointed toward a tent.  No one said a word to me.  Garalen and I wandered that way, and I rapped on the tent pole.  “Andrew?”

“Yeah, just a moment, Chrissy.”

A few minutes later, he came out.  I asked if he’d like to walk with me, and he said yes.  When we got out of earshot, he stopped and looked at me carefully.  “Are you alright?” he asked.  “When I heard what had happened, I was concerned.”

I looked at him just as carefully.  “I’m not sure I can trust you,” I stated.  “How much did you have to do with it?”

He got upset and nearly shouted “Nothing!”  He said it again, more quietly. “I wouldn’t do that to you.  Besides, you’re not a mage.”

“Apparently not, since I’m still conscious and breathing.  How many people thought I was a mage?”

“That dwarf had a book going at the tavern.  Lots of people lost money today.”

I looked at Garalen and we shared a smirk.  “Poor babies,” she cooed.  That’s just damn creepy, just so you know.  Note to self, never do anything that makes this woman coo at you. “Any chance we can get a look at that book?” she continued in the same breathy voice, taking a step toward him.

Andrew paled.  “T-talk to Flyssa,” he stuttered.

“I’ll do that,” she purred, stepping close enough to caress his face.  “Anything else you’d like to tell us?  Names maybe?”

He swallowed hard.  “I don’t know who did it.”  He seemed to wake up for a moment.  “Wait, why do you need to know?  She’s fine, right?”

“Yes, but they didn’t know she would be.” She slowly removed her hand from his face, trailing her fingers down his jaw.  “We’ll see you later, Templar man,” she said as she brushed her hand down his chestplate.  He swallowed again, and took two steps back.  With a bow, he was off.  Fast.  I immediately teased her about liking him, of course.  Imagine my surprise when she blushed! 

Anyway, we did the normal evening stuff at Ethelathe, and then Leorah, Jaidyn, Philomena, Garalen, Feren, and I headed off to the tavern.  After a drink, we asked Flyssa if we could see the booking.  “I heard this morning that some people thought I was a mage.  I just wanted to know who lost money today,” I said.  She ran down the list of losers.  Half the camp had thought I was a secret mage!  Interestingly, Varric himself hadn’t placed a bet either way.

I asked if there were any bets on whether I could sing.  She showed me the page.  I just grinned and told her I’d be back when the Herald was here to answer that one.   “It’ll be so much fun to make people cringe with my horrible singing,” were my parting words as I waved goodbye.  Sheesh, anyone who was at the bonfire knows whether or not I can sing.  Humans apparently don’t listen to elves or to each other.

I’m loving writing at this desk, by the way.  Anyway, it was an interesting day.  Apparently suspicion runs high here in Haven.  I don’t know if I was supposed to be incapacitated or killed by those Templars this morning.  If that’s what everyone’s afraid of, I get it.  It’s horribly painful, and there’s a part of me that still feels bruised somewhere inside.  It really stung to send out my feelers to check on everyone.  They’re scared tonight.  That makes me so ANGRY.  They were so happy just yesterday.  I’m going to make sure they’re happy again soon.

Goodnight, Princess.  Sleep tight.  I’m doing whatever I do to this journal that apparently isn’t magic that makes it invisible and heading for bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried to keep this fluffy-ish, but it just won't fluff! And Garalen is scary. Really scary. That character feels like she's going to jump out at me sometimes.


	38. Day 31

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Don't mess with people's pay. It's not nice. Spaghetti lunch, and plans.

Day 31:

The dreams become more intense every day.  Both kinds.  Very weird stuff, but nothing scary and nothing I’d call “temptation”.  The things I’ve seen in my dreams are weird and fun and freaky and all, but nothing’s tried to do anything like come back to the waking world with me.  Truly, the landscape in my dreams and the landscape in not-dreams is just about the same.  Sometimes it’s hard to tell where the difference is.

Anyway, Seggrit snagged me on my way in to talk to Josephine.  It was brought to my attention that my guys should have been paid for their work two days ago, on Day 29, and were not.  Each person that mentioned it said that if they got the tents and all the rest instead, they were good with that.  That’s fine, but what about the non-residents?  So off to Josie I go.  Seggrit told me that they were expecting a shipment of wine and beer sometime tomorrow.  I thanked him, and continued on my way.  Looks like I know what I’m doing tomorrow.

I got up to the Chantry and caught an argument between Leliana and Roderick.  Apparently, Stick in the Mud wants to give Inquisibutt a “supervisor” of some chantry sister or other.  If it’s the lady next to him, she sucks too many lemons and would take all the fun out of life.  Leliana was standing there with her lips pursed, not responding.  He just kept getting louder and louder.  I’m a bit of a bitch, like I said, so I stepped up close enough to get their attention and waited patiently.  Roderick demanded to know what I wanted.  I meekly responded that I had a message for the Seneschal of the Inquisition.  He tapped his foot, waiting.  “Well?” he demanded.

“I’m sorry, sir, it’s a message for the Seneschal.”

“I’m sure you can give it to us now, elf,” he sneered.  I stood there silently, waiting.  “Fine!” he said, and stormed off, Chantry Sister in tow.

“YOU have a message?” Leliana asked, arching her brow. 

“Yes.  That guys an ass.  You probably already knew that, but I had to give you that message.  Would you prefer me to go get him back?” I tried a small smile.  She’s a bit scary.  For large definitions of bit. 

She looked at me with her poker face and said she didn’t think so.  I told her I was on my way to talk to Ambassador Montilyet, and aked if there was anything I could do for her before I went.  “You could tell me where you’re from.”

I looked at her.  “Would you believe me?”

“Depends.”

“I’m from Virginia.  I don’t know where that is on your maps, or even if it’s on your maps.  I don’t know how I got here, either.”

“You’ve sent no messages, and received none.”  I nodded.  I’m not going to lie to her.  She’d be able to tell.  Same with Bull or Varric.  Probably Solas, too, if that wiggling when someone says something is true.  “What’s a Chrysopal?”

“A Blue-green opal threaded with gold,” I responded.  “I apologize if I interrupted or disturbed you, but it seemed that the Chancellor was just going to stand there yelling at you, and that’s not okay.”  She looked at me with that measuring look she had, nodded once, and said Ambassador Montilyet would surely be able to handle the pay problem.  I must have looked startled, because she let out a very small smile.  She turned to her desk and I left.

I headed back to Josie’s office and knocked on the door.  She answered with a joyful “Chrysopal!  It’s so nice to see you.  Is there something I can help you with?”

I nodded, and she invited me in.  I addressed the fact that the elves of Ethelathe had not been paid their wages from two days past.  She stopped her fluttering about and looked at me.  “They didn’t get paid?”

“If their pay was held back in exchange for the tents and such, we’re okay with that, but we’d like to know.”  Garalen chimed in that NONE of the elves had been paid.  “If the Ethelathe elves paid for the tents, that’s okay.  But the others don’t sleep there.  That’s not acceptable,” I added.

Lady Montilyet looked truly unhappy.  She assured me that she’d look into it immediately, and get back to me by the end of the day.  Which she hasn’t done, as of yet.  How much you want to bet Threnn pocketed the cash?  We parted ways, and I headed back out of the Chantry.  That place gives me the creeps now that it’s filled with people in weird red nun robes.  Like the Catholic church on crack or something.  The bigger the hat, the more important you are.

I checked on my people, and the kitchens were swamped.  They’d gotten some fruit and vegetables in from warmer places and were frantically canning before the stuff went bad.  Much to Garalen’s disgust, I chipped in.  I’ve always liked canning.  It’s like putting away a bit of happy for a rainy day and knowing you can feed your family for an extra day all in one.  They don’t do pressure canning, but they (surprisingly!) followed current/modern water bath canning protocols.

I asked Cook’s permission to play in her spices and worked up a spaghetti sauce from some of the tomatoes we got.  I also introduced her to noodles.  Apparently noodles weren’t a thing?  No China here, I guess.  Anyway, we in the kitchen had spaghetti for lunch. (I only made a normal sized amount, I’m not going to waste food.)  Cook had seconds. 

I gave her my recipe, approximated.  (I didn’t find any mace among the spices, and their parsley is weird, among other issues.  It was close enough.  Hard to mess up spaghetti sauce.)  She was warned that I didn’t know how well it would scale.  She also had me demonstrate noodles for her again.  Noodles are easy.  Flour, salt, water, roll, cut, boil.  I told her that she could use eggs, milk, or oil for the water, for different textures and flavors.  It made a nice change from stews and hard tack, I’ll tell you.  Oh, and I told her she could make the noodles, dry them, and then cook them later, which she LOVED.  I came out of the kitchens covered in flour and happy as a clam.  I’ve missed actually working. 

For the rest of the afternoon, we looked for a good spot for me to “sit and read”, so that I could NearBeerify the barrels of alcohol coming in.  We finally decided on a wall section not far from the big gates down past Ethelathe and the soldiers.  Then we collected some books from Dorian’s cottage and went home.

It was a good day.  Again.  People are less scared today, but still scared.  If I get my hands on those Templars, I’m going to swat them for hurting my family.  Goodnight, Baby Girl.  I miss you so much. 

 


	39. Day 32

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Short, but weird. Trying to do too much is bad, and I almost grasped something important.

Day 32:

I planted my rear at first light in my “reading spot”.  I told Ethelathe that I was going to look out for the merchant caravan and read some important books.  Actually, after I’d looked at the books I’d randomly grabbed, I figured it would be important to read them.  I managed to snag a copy of “The Shape of the Fade” and one of “Before Andrastianism: The Forgotten Faiths”.  I’d read the little excerpts from the game, but both these books are large, about the size of a 15 inch laptop and easily 4 inches thick.  And the writing is dinky.

Someone must have been running interference, because I wasn’t disturbed all morning.  Not a single person came up to chat, ask questions, anything.  It wasn’t until I heard the wagons arriving that I looked up from “Shape of the Fade” (which is full of a lot of superstitious nonsense, but is very interesting nonetheless).  I settled into breathing, feeling no ice and no itchiness coming from anywhere nearby.  I was blessed with only feeling the pleasant hum of reality around me.

I let my SELF out and directed it in the way I had with the cask of ale before.  As I “felt” that it was done, I took the opportunity to “feel” the people arriving.  They were all glimmers in the “space”, with no threads between any of mine and them.  There was one, paler than the rest.  Much paler than the rest.  As the wagons finished passing, I saw one person with the mark of a tranquil.  I spread out my “looking” and noticed that there were several other very pale spots.  There were some brighter ones, most of which were mine, and two really bright ones.  Most were in the middle, but the range really varied.  I was trying to think on the several things that might mean, but I don’t remember anything else until awaking in my bed in Ethelathe.

It was late afternoon by that point.   Andrew and Garalen were sitting in my chairs, studiously ignoring each other.  I must have looked confused, because Garalen pointed at Andrew and said, “He’s strong enough to carry three yous, so I got him when you passed out.  Then he refused to leave.”  She seemed huffy about that.  I was still bone tired, but I can’t breathe the way I need to in the cottage.

I was informed that the elves had all received their pay while I was unconscious.  They’d pushed everyone off, but I had a ton of paperwork delivered.  Something about job assignments.  I perked up a bit at that, but I’ve been firmly and forcefully instructed that I’m to keep my ass in bed and not do anything to worry everyone.  At least they fed me something solid.  They were arguing about me having only broth.  I was really confused about why everyone was upset, until Garalen said she found me bleeding from the nose and turning blue.  The only thing on my agenda for tomorrow, I've been informed, is meeting with Josephine to discuss elven duties and appropriate pay levels.

Well, I’ve finally been left alone, but I’m not to get out of bed.   Feren offered to go to the tavern and bring back some ale for me.  I don’t think they’d be serving the new stuff yet, though, so I turned him down.  I’m still so very tired.  Goodnight, baby.


	40. Day 33

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Herald's home, getting to work, still tired.

Day 33:

Heraldy and the hangers on arrived back this evening.  They look exhausted, and have a Sera with them!  No sign of Vivienne as of yet, but she’d probably pack and bring an entourage and all her things. I’m not going to bother a Sera today or anything, but I’m very excited to meet her.  I always found her a bit irritating in game, but always fun.  Of course, I’m not the Inquisibutt, so she may not even talk to me.  We’ll see.

Bad news: Solas stopped his horse just inside the gates, near where I was sitting yesterday.  I must have leaked more than blood.  Trying to stay out of that one’s way.  He waved everyone else on and spent five or six minutes just staring at the ground and wall, walking around the area, according to Gethon.  Gethon was out there to help bring the horses and pack animals in.  Most of Ethelathe watched them arrive from the path to the cottage.  Including me.  Cassandra looks so sad.

Anyway, the rest of the day was okay.  Ish.  I woke up still horribly exhausted, and needed help standing because I was so dizzy.  Leorah and Eadras prevailed over the others to get me outside to my nook, but only after bundling me up in way too many furs and having Feren carry me.  I spent about 30 minutes recharging under the watchful eyes of the multiple people who accompanied me.  It’s harder with them around, but not a lot so.  Leorah allowed me to unbundle after my color improved.  I must not have looked so good.  I really need to get a mirror.  I still don’t know what I look like.

We went back to Ethelathe Cottage and I reviewed the papers that had been left for me.  They listed all the elven people and maybe a third to a half the human servants.  Next to the names were current job and listed talents.  The accompanying pages listed the number of people needed at each general workstation and contained a note requesting to talk to me about wages.  When I got up to talk to Josephine, Garalen and Feren immediately jumped to their feet.  I was a touch unsteady, but I was fine!

Leorah had left clothing for me to wear, and I was told that if I wasn’t willing to be carried, I would have Feren right next to me. *eyes rolling HARD*  Overprotective much?  Anyway, we walked rather slowly to Josie’s office, and I waited patiently for her to have a moment.

The conversation was short but interesting.  She was at a loss on why there was such a disparity in wages for different assignments.  Such a sweet, naïve person.  She was truly confused as to why humans were paid almost twice as much in the same position as elves were.  Really?  After talking in circles for a while, I boiled it down.  If she wanted to be fair about wages, either she had to cut the wages of the humans, or increase the wages of the elves.  The simplest method would be to designate a wage for the job, and give that wage to the person performing that job, regardless of age, race, or anything else, with the possible exception of experience.  A cook with six years of experience is worth more than one with two, after all. I know Josie’s smart.  It’s like paying elves the same as others is a new concept or something, though.  I guess it might be. 

She put me in charge of half the human workers at the individual humans’ request.  She sent runners to the main workstation leaders (Cook, Stablemaster, Harritt, etc.).  When some of the humans heard I was handling assignments, they requested I handle them as well.  Probably because I make an effort to pair people with work they like or are good at a large portion of the time. While I was there, I asked if there were any guitars going to spare.  Thank goodness she knew what a guitar was.  “An Antivan instrument, as I recall.  I believe we may have one somewhere.”  Also, apparently I’m to receive a wage as well, as well as access to full rations instead of refugee rations.

I was dragging heavily by the time I left there.  Not sure why.  I think it’s because I hadn’t ever before accidentally started another “spell” before finishing the first one.  It might also be leftover from the Templars “bruising” that part of me that I do this stuff with.  It still aches.  I really should have taken a breath between nearbeering and taking a look at everyone.  I think I may have tried to do a bit much, under the circumstances.  As evidenced by my leaking whatever all over where I was working, I suppose.  Anyway, Feren grumbled about halfway home and just picked me up.  I was “moving too slow”.

That’s when we were able to watch Inquisibabe and his people come in.  He was a day early, by my calculations.  I don’t think any of them took any notice of several random elves watching them arrive.  We went home after watching the procession, and I was tucked back into bed.  I’ve got the assignments for most of the next tenday completed.  I’ll finish the rest in the morning.

Goodnight sweetheart.  Mommy misses you.  Tweedle kisses are wonderful, but not the same.


	41. Day 34

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Getting my job done, flustering the Herald, confusing Varric, and cleaning up after Sera.

Day 34:

I awoke feeling better. That part of me that aches?  It aches less.  I’m still not quite steady, but I won’t admit that out loud.  I must have been running on pure adrenaline that first day I was running about.  Or it’s like a car accident.  You feel a lot worse the week following than the day of.

I finished the rotations for the next tenday, making sure everyone got a half day off.  It wasn’t all that hard.  Missing my computer and Shiftboard, though.  That would make things easier.  I’m starting to really miss the internet and my Nook, too. If I get stuck here past breach closure, I’m really going to have to have a talk with Dagna.  In any case, I stuck Leorah in sewing for most of the week.  Feren’s solid in the forge.  Eadras still works directly under Josephine as a clerk.  Moved lots of people around to where they were swapping to, mostly.  Garalen’s on the list, so she’s definitely working for someone.  Just so you know, babysitting duties and Ethelathe watch were included on my list of “chores”, but not Josie’s.  Still got everyone a half day off.  Just proves to me no one was trying to organize this, before.

I made two copies of the roster and tried to post one outside Ethelathe Cottage’s door.  I’m an idiot, because I have no tape, no pins, no nails.  So I stuck it there.  Without any of that.  The Templars have a problem with that, they can blow me.  I didn’t MEAN to stick it there.  Not really.  I was just hunting for something while holding it up to the door and I was a bit flustered and I said “STAY!” and it stuck.  Looks good, works good, comes down easy. 

We got breakfast here at Ethelathe, just a nice porridge.  I like porridge.  So there.  I went around to the tents and told them that the new roster was up.  It would take effect in two days.  And breakfast was ready.  I then grabbed the other copy and the original and headed out.  Hadn’t gotten 10 feet before Garalen caught up, still tugging on her jacket.

We headed up past the soldiers.  It snowed a few days ago, but today was fairly warm.  Several of the soldiers were doing the shirtless grapple thing.  Hey, I’m a red-blooded American woman.  YEAH, I stopped and watched for a while.  Most of these guys were young.  18-25, I’d guess.  But there was the occasional older specimen in EXCELLENT shape.  Including the Commander.  And this dark-haired hottie he was grappling with.  What?  You would have been looking, too.  Hubba hubba all around. 

Anyway, after a few minutes we continued on into Haven proper.  Inquisibabe and Varric were chatting at the tents below Threnn’s outfit.  They stopped us.  Lord Trevelyan bowed to me, and I curtsied in return.  Both with smirks, so we knew we didn’t mean it.  Inquisibabe and I exchanged pleasantries, while Varric looked on.  Then, Heraldy made formal introductions.  I greeted Varric, and he immediately asked what I had against him and Chuckles.  I told him I didn’t have anything against him at all.  He was a writer, though, and was known to ask many questions. 

He hmmmed at me.  “And Chuckles?” he asked.  I told him if he meant the elf that was constantly sneering at his own kind, then it was because he was constantly sneering at his own kind.  The elves here were treated as poorly by him as by the humans.  Worse, because at least the humans acknowledged their existence instead of just taking advantage of delivered meals and provided services.  I may have mentioned that he was likely to drown with his nose so high in the air.  While standing there, I said that “Herald Oblivious” was just as bad. 

The herald in question turned to me in shock.  “What do you mean by that?” he demanded. 

“Remember the day you awoke after temporarily sealing the breach?”  He nodded at that.  “Ever wonder what happened to the young woman who dropped the potions when you scared her by sitting up?”  He shook his head, confused.  “You do remember her, though?”  He nodded. “You never did check to see how she was treated for that.  I was the one who cleaned her up, tended her wounds, wrapped her broken arm, and took her “new” job in the scullery for a day so she could recover a bit until we could scrounge a swallow or two of a potion to heal her.  In a way, your neglect is directly responsible for Ethelathe, My Lord.”  I smiled sweetly at him.

Herald Hottie turned red and then white at that.  He looked like he was in shock.  His mouth kept opening and closing.  When he finally managed to speak, all he said was “wounds?”  I nodded gravely.

Varric pursed his lips and said, “You’re dangerous, Lady Chrysopal.”

“People keep saying that, but considering I haven’t got any weapon’s training at all, I’m not sure how.”  I curtsied to them both, told them I’d see them about but that I had to meet with the Ambassador, and took my leave.  Two steps back and all.  Garalen was smirking as we headed off.  By the time we got near the Chantry doors, she was full on laughing. 

“His FACE!” she chortled. “The look on his face!  Chrissy, that was mean!”

I shrugged and looped my arm with hers.  “Come on, Giggles.  We want to beat the news to Lady Montilyet.”

I knocked on the door and waited.  Mother Giselle kept looking over at me.  “Can I help you?” I asked.  She was about to say something when a young sister or whoever came up to her with an urgent message.  She was distracted, and the moment was lost.  Aw, darn, right?

Anyway, Josie opened the door and escorted the lady she’d been in conference with into the main area.  She gracefully said her goodbyes and reassured whoever the lady was that the inquisition would give the matter their full attention.  As the lady walked off, Josie turned to me.  I held up the sheaf of papers in my hand.  “You’ve finished already?  Come in, please!”

She led us into her office.  She proceeded to explain that technically Leliana was in charge of personnel assignments, but Josie was going to handle things because the situation was interesting.  The Nightingale thought it could use the Ambassador’s delicate touch.  The elves were referring the Nightingale’s agents to everyone under the sun, apparently at random, but gave the lady herself full, complete, and accurate answers.  Josie said she was just going to deal with me and let me sort it out.

I had to smirk at that.  “We don’t lie to the Spymaster, Ambassador, or hide anything from her.  It’s one of our rules.  However, I am fairly certain that a portion of her agents are not so reliable, and therefore we’ve not made the same rule for them.”

“I see,” she said.  We continued our business, with me showing her my schedules.  She was surprised I was done so quickly.  When I asked where I should post them, she said that we needed a board for such things.  So I asked where I could get materials for such a board.  She wrote out a requisition for the materials, and told me to give it to the quartermaster.  Threnn could also supply me with people to make it. 

“I’d rather use my people or the Commander’s, Ambassador.  We’re not precisely on good terms with Quartermaster Threnn.”

“There are many who say the same.  She has some unpopular views, but she’s efficient.”  I gave her my polite smile, but said nothing else. We finished our business and took our leave.  She’s going to send me an “official” copy of the schedule, which she promises to be unchanged, and keep my original for the personnel files.

Next stop, regrettably, was Threnn.  I presented the paperwork, and Threnn told me it would take a while to get the materials together.   “That’s fine,” I said, shifting into a wider stance and crossing my arms.  “The elves won’t be at work until I can post their schedules, though.”  She looked at me, and passed the paperwork to one of her people, and told him to put a rush on it.  I thanked her, and we followed the underling.  He told us that the materials will be ready for pickup by mid-afternoon.

Off to the tavern for lunch.  Figured I’d try the full rations I was now entitled to.  Actual slices of meat, vegetables with a sauce, and mashed turnips.  Varric waved us to sit with him, and yelled that he’d be horribly offended if we didn’t.  Garalen sat between me and him.  The meal wasn’t bad.  Much better than stew and hardtack or the jerky rations.  Varric mentioned that people had been betting on whether I was a mage, and that it’d been decided I wasn’t.  I smiled, and said that people keep telling me I’m not a mage.  They keep telling me a lot of things about me. 

Garalen snickered and said I should put the roster up on the tavern door until we got the Chantry board built.  And I should do it the way I did it at Ethelathe.  I happened to be drinking at the time, and choked.  After I was done sputtering, I asked if she was kidding.  She shook her head.  Varric, being the troublemaker that he is, said that he HAD to see this now.  I looked at Garalen and told her I wasn’t ready for any more early morning visits.  Maybe tomorrow, when we get the Chantry board done, I’d attach it.  Give me another day of rest and all that. 

“It still hurts?” she asked.

“Just aches, but less today than yesterday.”

“You should wait, then.  We’ll get some nails,” she said.  I just nodded at her.  Master Tethras asked if we were being deliberately vague or just trying to be irritating.  I’d thought we’d been very clear.  I told him that if we both understood what we were talking about, we weren’t vague at all, now were we?  As we left, I smiled at him and said Andrew was just as frustrated with us.

“Who’s Andrew?” was the last thing we heard from Varric aside from some uncomplimentary muttering.  That was fun.

After that we headed to Harritt’s.  I asked him if he knew of any carpentry-oriented individuals.  He didn’t, but one of his assistants knew a nice young man who usually worked in stores who liked to work with his hands.  I got a name and headed to stores.  The young man in question was willing to build the board for a small fee and an introduction to Marta.  I told him I’d have to check with Marta about that.  I’m also going to check our guys.  Seriously, how hard can building a noticeboard be?  Two posts, some braces, a board, right?  Doesn’t exactly have to be pretty.  Oh, and I asked Feren to pick up the supplies, since he’s rugged and strong and stuff.

By that time the day was pretty well done.  Everyone met up at Ethelathe for dinner, including some of our non-residents.  We had a nice roast ram and boiled greens of some kind, with some flatbread.  Surprisingly yummy, actually.  After school, which is becoming more popular, we did the standard night things. 

It was probably an hour after dark when someone pounded on the door.  Garalen looked out the window and motioned Eadras to open the door.  One of mine, but nonresident, was holding his wrist and had a blackening eye among other bruises.  Another was helping him stand.  He was hazy, not quite real or certain, like Phil and Marta used to be, unlike the guy he was supporting.  Apparently legs were involved, too.  The hurt guy said he’d been caught outside the inner gate, and he didn’t know by whom.  His face wiggled when he said it.

Eadras looked at me, and I motioned them in.  I told them I’d help, but I needed the truth first.  They looked at each other.  I sat down to wait.  It took about 2 minutes of all of us staring at them in silence when they started talking over each other, something about jumping a druffalo and a bet with some lady named Sera and they’re fast and something about slipping on dung.  I stopped them at that point.  I did not need to hear any more.  I looked at the young man.  He was banged up but not truly busted.  I pushed on his ribs and checked his limbs, and he was sound.  I handed him a small cup of my “special tea”, and after he drank it, told him to be far more careful when betting with Jennies.  He told me she was a Sera, so I just said “of course”.

Anyway.  Interesting day.  Got a lot accomplished considering I sat on my duff most of the day.  Nice to know Sera wastes no time in getting up to her hijinks, too.

Goodnight, Dearling.  I miss you every day.


	42. Day 35

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vivienne arrives, chantry boards, and public magic.

Day 35:

I may have been visited by my first demon last night in dreams.  I felt watched, but when I demanded they show themselves, they fled, and I felt them no more.

Well, today I played with hammer and nails.  The Tweedles stood around staring at bits of wood with no clue what to do with them!  Back home, you give the average boy a general shape and the tools to make it, they can at least try to hammer it together.  I think every mom has that misshapen birdhouse from cub scouts or wherever.  So since I was greeted with blank faces, we had basic carpentry lessons.

About halfway through building the chantry board, we had to get some wood cut to fit.  So we traipsed up to the logging camp.  They’d have a saw, right?  Well, when I explained what we were looking for to the men there, they kind of took over.  Half an hour later we had a chantry board with a little roof thing to keep it dry and modified footings so we don’t have to dig holes.  It’s a real attitudinal difference between these humans and the elves here.  If the attitude can change, is it possible we elves could be and do more?

So we thanked the lumberjack people, and then started hauling the chantry board up to Haven.  Well, trying.  This thing is heavy!  We probably only moved it about three feet by ourselves.  I went to get help, and ended up grabbing Tanya, Davhalla, and Gratia.  We must have looked a sight to the lumberjacks, four little bitty elf ladies and two little boys trying to pick up their work.

Well, these guys weren’t having that, apparently.  Four of them picked up the board, right out of our hands!  We were asked where we wanted it, and all of us headed off to Haven proper.  Of course we’d show up just before Madame de Fer arrived.  The guys were maneuvering the board through the gate, since for some reason the guards only opened one side, when the lady in question rode up on a high stepping white horse with an entourage of eight people and a stuffed wagon.  I asked Tanya to get the chantry board in place, and the other two to help me help with the horses. 

The lady dismounted, gave a few instructions, and stalked off without looking back.  Didn’t even think to acknowledge anyone’s existence.  Bitch.  Sera’s right about her.  Viv’s mount was in sad shape.  The poor thing was in sidereins and drawreins, as well as a twisted wire curb bit.  Whoever was tending this poor beastie was torturing it.  I called over Gethon, and he took one look at her and ran off.  He came back with a long lead, and stripped the mare of her tack right there in the road.  He dug a rock out of her back hoof while he was looking for pressure shoes, and gently led her away.  My opinion of Vivienne as a horsewoman went WAY south.  I can’t ride them, but I can care for them, and I know when one’s been abused.   I can’t wait. 

After we got Viv’s things handled, I went home.  I made another copy of the roster and took it out to where they placed the board.  I hadn’t seen Garalen all day, but I remembered her request.  There was no one close, and no icy or itchy feeling.  I smoothed the pages over the board one at a time, whispered "stay" and PUSHED lightly, and let them go.  Six pages held to the Chantry board with nothing.  I smiled and skipped off.

The rest of the day was uneventful, so I decided to take the boys sledding.  When I went to the orphan home to get Daniel, I picked up the other two children, too.  Laura and Stephen.  So I took the kids sledding.  It was my day to mind the store, as it were.

When everyone came home, I found out that several people had tried to take down my roster, but that the pages won’t move. They can’t even get a finger under them to rip a piece off.  “It’s almost like they’re part of the board or something, huh?” I smiled, and got smiles in return.

School, chores, dinner, bathtime.  Normal day.  Goodnight, my darling daughter.  Sweet dreams.


	43. Day 36

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Basic soapmaking, a heraldic apology, a quick explanation to Varric

Day 36:

We were barely done with breakfast when Inquisibabe knocked on the post of the doorframe.  (It was getting warmer, just slightly, and so many people were coming in and out we just left the door open.)  I smiled at him and waved him in.  The Tweedles peppered him with questions about his hand before Eadras could hush them.  He gave them some non-committal answers and made small talk with the others.  Soon, he leaned against the wall near me. 

“I don’t know which one she was,” he said, finally.  “I don’t recognize anyone but you and that lady cleaning her knives.”  It was then I realized why he was here.  I admit, I looked at him with surprise.  He seemed unhappy that he couldn’t pick out her face.  I may have felt a teensy bit more respect for him at that point.

“You will be kind to her,” I said.  He nodded.  So I called over Leorah, and introduced them.  He asked her to take a walk with him, and they headed for the door.  “Herald!” I called.  He turned.  “I hold you responsible for her safety until you return her to us.”

“She won’t be harmed,” he replied somberly, and escorted her out.  They were gone through school time, and most of Ethelathe had left for work by the time they returned.  She returned smiling, though, so that was good.  I didn’t ask her what they talked about, but she told me he’d apologized to her for his neglect.  On and on how the Herald of Andraste got on his knee to her requesting her forgiveness.  Well, well, well.  The man knows how to apologize, if her bright face is anything to go by.  No signs of kissing, but I figure he’s going to be into the Seeker, anyway.   Maybe Josephine.  He’s definitely one to check out ladies, and doesn’t seem to notice manly strutting.

She was heading out to the sewing room when Varric of all people came strolling up to the door.  Ethelathe was POPULAR today, I’ll tell you.  We greeted each other and Eadras shooed me out.  “Talk to him outside.  You’re distracting the boys from their work.”

Didn’t know I was a distraction, but hey, who am I to argue.  So when Mssr. ChestHair started meandering, I traipsed along.  We’d been walking around the edge of the frozen lake for about five minutes when he said, “you forgot your shoes.  I would have thought you’d notice by now.”  I looked down, and so I had.  Oops.

I shrugged and said I was sorry.  Offered to go back for them.  He smirked at that.  “Why bother?” he said.  We walked for another few minutes.  We’d been silently walking next to each other for way too long. He actually seemed nervous.

Exasperated, I blurted, “What exactly do you want, Master Tethras?  We’ve been walking for ten minutes saying nothing.”

“You’re a hard person to talk to.  Some of the people are a bit spooked.  More so than with Chuckles.” I didn’t see why, and said so.  “The paper on the Chantry board, did you do that?”

“Yes… why?” I queried.

“It won’t come off.”

“It will.”

“Okay, WE can’t get it off.”

“This has people really upset?  Putting paper up?”

He just looked at me.  “Fine,” I said.  “Let me get my shoes and some nails and a hammer. I’ll take them down and repost them in a more Andrastian fashion.” So we went back to Ethelathe Cottage, I put on my shoes, and we went up to the board.  God.  Scary Nightingale and Scary Apostate were both there, but they must have kicked everyone else out of the area.  Deep breaths.  Oddly enough, it was not itchy around the board, or around Chuckles this time.  There was something weird about the way it felt, though.  Not wiggly, but like someone had pushed and pulled at what I did.

Ignoring two scary people, I reached up and smoothed my hand over the sheets.  I didn’t let my SELF out or anything.  The sheets came down in my hands.  I handed them to Varric as I went, with a smile.  I turned to the scary lady, keeping my eyes off the Wolf.  “I brought nails to put them up the Andrastian way.  I apologize for doing it incorrectly in front of your holy place.”   I took the pages from Varric, and proceeded to hammer the nails through the tops.  They weren’t nearly as neat and tidy. 

I smiled at Leliana when I was through, as they’d all three stood there and watched me hammer in six nails.  She pursed her lips at me.  My smile fell. When I’m nervous I blurt shit out.  I said I had to go to the scullery, because today was soap-making day.  A voice I’d not heard in real life sounded behind me.  “You made up the schedules and gave yourself soap-making?” Chills skittered down my spine.  He sounds exactly like in the games.

“It’s a dirty, smelly chore that no one likes.  Why would I inflict it upon someone else when I have a choice not to?  I won’t ask someone to do something I’m not willing to do.  Tomorrow, I’ll be cleaning privies.  I’m not too good for either task, My Lord.”  Keeping my eyes down, turned and curtsied to him as I said My Lord.  Varric inhaled audibly.  I curtsied then to Leliana.  “My lady.”  I think my voice was much warmer speaking to her.

As I started heading toward the scullery, Varric rushed up to walk with me.  “Not a mage?”

I smiled at him.  He’s got this look to him that’s just endearing.  “So people keep telling me,” I said.  “The Templars and mages, mostly.”  As we were walking, I realized that he wasn’t very much shorter than me.  Maybe 2-3 inches.  Interesting.  Somehow I’d always assumed that dwarves were very much shorter than humans, but then again, I’m not human here.  “How tall are you, Master Tethras?”

“It’s Varric.  Why do you want to know?”

“Because I seem to be only about two inches taller than you, and I was curious about my own height.”

“Now, Chrissy.  I’ve been near you almost an hour and haven’t asked you but two questions.  Looks like you’re the one being invasive now.”

I was horrified.  I’d never said he was invasive!  I told him that, too.  “Well, you said you avoided me about the questions thing.”

I sighed.   I headed over to a low wall and planted my butt.  I still had time for lunch before needing to report to work.  I patted the wall next to me.  “I guess you’re the designated find-out person, yes?”  He didn’t say anything.  “How much are you going to tell other people if I share some of me with you?”

“Depends on what you share, I suppose.”

“How about this.  I don’t personally remember anything of Thedas prior to waking up in the healer’s tent.  My memories don’t match this place at all.  I find myself in a place where every single elf I see save one is treated like the dirt on someone’s boot. That one stands above and does nothing to help while being served by the rest of us like he’s a pampered noble or a chantry sister.  I know he’s a great and powerful mage, but I’m still resentful.  I’m told repeatedly that I’m not a mage by a Templar and people from the mage tent, but I can do things that aren’t easily explained away, and I do them in service of my fellows.  I saw three Templars on a hill raise their hands to me and cause me the most pain I’ve ever felt, and people around me were astonished when I stood back up, aching in places inside I didn’t know I had.  I halfway think this is a dream that I’m hoping I’ll wake up from, because this place is horrible.  It’s dirty and it smells.  It’s brutal.  And people mistreat their animals.  At the same time, even if it is a dream, I would think less of myself if I didn’t do something to protect people who can’t or won’t protect themselves.  And worst is that there are at least five other people who are exactly in my position, two of which are here in this camp but better at hiding or just ignored.  And that’s just the start.”

Varric looked at me.  “That’s quite a story, kid.”

“Figured you wouldn’t believe me.  Feel free to make something up, then.  It doesn’t matter.”

“Whoah, I didn’t say I didn’t believe you.” He held his hands out in protest.

“Varric, I have to get lunch and head for the scullery.  We really do have soap-making today. You have your story.  Have a good day, okay?”  With that, I hopped down from the wall and strode off.  Got myself some lunch, and got to work. I really had hoped he would believe me, and I'm unreasonably hurt that he doesn't. 

Soap-making really is dirty and smelly.  It’s not like you can get lye from the store around here.  You have to get hardwood ash, filter water through it, boil the water until an egg floats in it (don’t eat the egg), and then add fats.  One lady got splashed by lye water, but we doused her in vinegar before she was burnt. Boiling the fats in lye water (add lye to the water, not water to the lye) stinks.  A lot.  The stirring gets old, too.  When the soap is ready, pour/push it into molds, and wait.  It’ll set up fast and be ready to use in a week or two.  We didn’t get done until well after dark, and we all went home tired.  It’s hard work. 

They’d already put the Tweedles in bed when I got back, so no cuddles.  I’m freshly bathed and heading for bed.  Goodnight.  Time to blow the visibility off this thing.  Herald butt better get his in gear.  I want to go home, baby.

Current logistics:

Medikit for every man, woman, and child in Haven as of yesterday.  I didn’t count them, someone else did.  I'm losing the threads, and I have to do better.  Dealing too much with higher ups and forgetting what I'm supposed to be doing.

Timeline:

  * ~~14 Herald leaves for Hinterlands~~
  * ~~20 Mother Giselle Arrives~~
  * ~~23 Herald back~~
  * ~~24 Day off~~
  * ~~25 Extra day off.~~
  * ~~26-33 Val Royeaux~~
  * ~~34 Day off in Haven~~
  * ~~35 Extra day off in Haven~~
  * 36 Another day in Haven
  * 37-44? Fetch mages in redcliffe? Therinfall redoubt, 37-45
  * 46? mages arrive (templar arrival date 50)
  * 47? Prep for breach (Templar 51)
  * 48? Seal the breach (Templar 52)



**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The soapmaking stuff is a very basic, ancient, before-actual-measurement depiction. Please don't attempt based on what I wrote. While it would probably work, you might not like the results.


	44. Day 37

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A quiet day, up to my knees in shit, and Andrew panics.

Day 37:

Something waits just outside my dreams, so I keep them calm and quiet.

Anyway, today was another icky day.  I got up early, harangued Leorah until I got some icky threadbare clothes to wear, and got ready for the day.  I decided to have breakfast at the Tavern, since I’d be meeting the rest of the privy crew there anyway.  There were three of us elves, and three humans.  Even steven works.  We all had oatmeal with canned peaches for breakfast.  Sera was snoring in the corner.  I didn’t realize she slept in the common room of the tavern.

Then the six of us trooped up the Chantry to get the job done.  The way you clean a privy vault is you have people climb in and pull the sludge up with buckets.  Smallest people are down in the bottom, and the bigger people up at the top hauling.  Yes, it’s nasty and awful, and you’re knee deep in liquid shit.  The good thing is that they’re clearing the public bathhouse for us at the end of the day.

We skipped lunch, because we REALLY didn’t want to eat.  I skipped dinner.  The thought of food was making me gag.  We got the vaults lowered significantly and the refuse out into the pit someone else dug for us.  Thank goodness.  Between buckets falling and slipping, there wasn’t one of us six that hadn’t landed face first in the muck at least once.

It was only my second time in the bathhouse, actually.  This must be a dormant volcano, considering these are natural hot springs.  We did things the Japanese way, though.  We stood over the grates and poured buckets of water over each other, then washed ourselves until we squeaked.  We were way too dirty for any of us to be overly body shy.  Thank goodness some kind soul had provided robes.  I think we’re going to burn the clothes we were wearing.

Honestly, it was nice spending a day doing nothing intellectual at all.  No trying to figure out what to do or how much to say.  And we’re all going to soak here until we can’t smell the ammonia and the shit anymore.  I decided to check on my people while soaking.  They’re doing well. Shiny threads, no one appears to be very afraid.  Cautious, yes, but not afraid. 

The soldier that had the altercation with Tanya met us at the door of the bathhouse.  He kindly volunteered to walk us each to our homes.  The humans demurred, but the rest of us agreed.  The other two lived in the village, and I was the only one heading to Ethelathe Cottage.  The young man didn’t make any effort to touch me in any way while we walked.  He thanked me for saving him some stripes, and I thanked him for walking me home.  It was a very cordial interaction.

When I got in the door, Andrew was inside with the Tweedles.  He’d brought his bedroll with him. Eadras had said he could stay, so he was.  I asked if he needed to talk, but he shook his head.  Looks like we have another in our midst.

I revealed my notebook in my area, and Andrew came running in.  “What the hell was that?” he choked.  I stammered that it was just my notebook.  Then I realized he’d felt me reveal it.  “Come in and slide the curtain, please,” I said.  Then I asked him not to panic, and blew the visibility off the pages in my hand.  Then I revealed them again.  He stood there, agog.  “Don’t tell anyone, okay?  There’s things in here that are private.  Like HOME private.”

He nodded, thank goodness.  I could feel the icy increase drastically when he closed his eyes.  I shivered.  He stopped after a moment.  “You don’t feel like any mage I’ve seen, except when you do things.  That’s fucking CREEPY, Chrissy.”

“Well, hold on to your socks, because now you need to think back a few days and what your fellow Templars did.”

He paled.  I’m writing this as he paces and curses, actually.  He looked me over, actually touching my limbs and face and turning me about, and now he’s muttering and cursing about things being weird.  I think I’ll wait to tell him that I can “find” him in the general area, and have a good idea how he’s feeling when I do.  He called what I’ve done with the notebook “veiling” in his mutterings.  At least now I know what to call it.

I’m heading to cuddle the Tweedles for a while.  Goodnight baby girl.  I miss you.  Be good, wherever you are.


	45. Day 38

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A long conversation with Varric, Thedasian illness management, spaghetti dinners, and embarrassing Garalen.

Day 38:

Someone or something keeps poking around the edges of my dreams.  I imagined a “dome” around them, unbreakable colored glass.  I don’t know whether it’s a demon or Sir Elvhen Glory, but either way, I don’t want it in.  I worry that I know too much for Mr. Glory to be comfortable with my survival, and I really don’t feel like playing with demons.

I woke up with the dawn.  Again.  What happened to sleeping in?  I used to do that all the time back home.  Anyway, when I got up and tiptoed out, I saw the CUTEST thing.  Garalen’s going to shit bricks.  She’s on her belly, and has her arm hanging down from her cot.  The cute part is it’s under Andrew’s shirt up to the elbow.  He’s on the floor between her and Eadras.  I wish I had a camera.  Or could draw. 

Okay, you know I can’t leave well enough alone.  I leaned down, touched his shoulder, and whispered, “Don’t move” to Andrew.  His eyes opened and I shushed him.  I pointed to his chest. “Don’t move.”  I moved to Garalen.  I called her name softly, and she stroked his chest as she woke.  I softly asked, “Is there a reason you’re molesting our resident Templar?”  She jerked her eyes open and tried to sit up, but was trapped by her arm.  She ended up falling on top of him. It took a few moments for them to disentangle, and I think Andrew was NOT helping.

I hightailed it out of there, laughing.  I had the day off, because shit duty is nasty. I decided to take breakfast in the tavern.  Sera wasn’t there.  Flyssa kindly told me all about how Inquisibabe met with someone who wants to be hired on as a mercenary crew.  So he took Viv, Sera, and Cass out to go take a look yesterday while I was knee deep in a cesspool.  I missed seeing Krem.  I have a major sad about that.  Well, hopefully they’ll hire on and I can meet him in person then.  The Iron Bull, too, of course.

Breakfast was real eggs and real ham!  Well, I’m assuming real ham.  Tasted like real ham. Anyway, was good.  Ran back to Ethelathe for school, but left again after.  Popped in and complimented Cook on breakfast.  Asked what Master Tethras’ favorite treat was.  She pointed at what looked like blueberry pastries with cream cheese.  Should have known he’d like sweet mixed with tart.  With permission, I grabbed two and headed out to apologize to Varric. 

He was standing near his fire, staring at the sky.  I stepped up next to him.  “The Herald and I talked for several minutes about how it was both very beautiful and very deadly.”  He sighed and nodded.  I held out the blueberry tart.  “It’s a peace offering.  I’m sorry if I offended you or did anything to hurt you the other day, or any of the other days, actually, Master Tethras.”

“I’m not used to people treating me like someone to be avoided or feared.  Why do you?”  He took the pastry and leaned his back against the wall as he took a bite.

“You won’t believe me, and whether you did or not, there’s every chance I’ll either end up in a book or you’ll tell people something that will get me hurt or killed.”

“You think I’d do that?”

“Not on purpose.  You have an ear for stories, and you tell them well.  Is it not fair of me to be concerned about my own story?”

“I’ll not say anything or write anything public without your permission.  Does that help?” He looked sincere, so I nodded.

“I won’t talk around here, though. Except, you know, generally.”

“You cleaned the privies yesterday, didn’t you,” he stated.

“I don’t generally make a habit of lying,” I replied.

“See, now that’s what I mean.  You never give a straight answer. You’re as bad as Nightingale sometimes.”

“You’ve talked to me a total of three times, Ser Dwarf.  How would you know?” I smiled.

“See?  And I told you to call me Varric.”  He looked at me. “I’m almost five feet.”  I must have looked confused.  “Height.  You asked.  I’m almost five foot.  You’re probably barely five-one.  You’re overestimating your height.  There’s no way you’re a full two inches taller than me.  You really don’t know how tall you are?”

I shrugged.  “I told you I woke up in the healer’s tent thirty-some days ago.  When and where did I get the chance to measure?”

“Surely you knew before?”

“Care to take a walk?  That’s more crazy stuff that you’re not going to believe, Varric.”  We strolled down by the lake again.

“You remembered your shoes this time.”

“I did,” I replied.  “Leorah’s been putting my outfits together the night before.  She used to do the lady’s maid thing.  It hurt her to be moved to scullery.  She’s happier now in sewing.”

“She had lots to say about you.”  He picked up a rock and skittered it across the lake.

“When did you get to talk to her? And skips don’t count when the lake is iced over.  No bet.”

He grinned, a full on grin.  “Darn.  And I would have won, too.  Leorah chatted with the Herald for a while.”

“Yeah.  It was really nice of him to apologize.  I didn’t expect that.”

“You shamed him.  He keeps talking about equality and everyone’s welcome in the inquisition. Then, when his own quartermaster watches a girl get roughed up for bothering him and being scared by him, he doesn’t even notice.”

“Seggrit was the one who noticed.  I was just the next pointy-eared person he saw.”

“That’s not how Seggrit tells it.”

“You guys checking up on me?”

“You’ve gathered half of Haven into your own personal family group.  Some of the elves are calling it an “open clan”.  You think we’re not going to check?” He used quote fingers and everything on “open clan”, looking at me expectantly.

“There are only 63 elves in Haven.  That’s not even a fifth of the population. And what’s an open clan?”  I picked up my own rock and skittered it across the lake.

“That’s a terrible showing.  You were right not to bet.  So, what about the humans?”

“Seggrit, Harritt, Adan, Andrew, and Daniel.  That’s not that many.”

He stopped and looked at me.  “You don’t know, do you.”  I didn’t.  He laughed, full-bodied.  “This is priceless.  I can’t wait to see how this plays out.”

“I know some humans have requested I do the rosters.  I worked with two of them yesterday.”

He abruptly changed the subject, still laughing.  “Where are you from, Chrissy?”

“Virginia,” I said.

“Never heard of it,” he responded.

“I’m not surprised.”

“There you go again.”

“Fine.  I’m from the mountainous portion of a state you’ve never heard of, in a country you’ve never heard of, on a continent you’ve never heard of, on a world you’ve never heard of.  I had a home, and a family, and I woke up here and it’s GONE.  And I don’t know if I’ll ever get home.  Where I come from, I’ve seen the kind of treatment the elves get, but that’s not how it works at home.  In my land, they separate people by skin color.  Those with darker skin were and are treated poorly.  My parents worked to see those with darker skin have the same rights and privileges as those with lighter skin, and significant progress has been made.  I’m just doing the same here.”

“Seems a stupid way to separate people.  And you get positively loquacious when riled.”

“That’s what I think about the separation of Elves here.  And I’m never loquacious.”  I stuck my tongue out at him.  I picked up another rock.  I put my will behind it and PUSHED.  The rock went all the way across the lake and thundered into a snowdrift, sending up a fountain of snow.  His eyebrows went up. 

“Maybe I wouldn’t win that bet.”

“I cheated that time.  I wouldn’t cheat if we were actually betting.” I took a deep breath.  “I’d like to call you friend, Varric.  I hope someday I can.”  I held out my hand and he grasped it.

“I think I’d like that, too,” he said.

I looked at him.  “How did you bet on the singing question?”

“Against.  Most people can’t sing for shit.”

“It’ll be a pleasure to take your money.  Come get me next time Herald Handsome is in town.  I’ll give it a try.”

“Herald Handsome?”

“The first time I got a good look at him, I only saw his unclothed rear and back before Scary Elf Dude slammed the door and terrified me.”  I shrugged.  “It’s a nice butt.”  I left Varric laughing and holding his side.  I really do want to be friends with him.  He’s handsome, entertaining, smart, and funny.  And insanely loyal if you prove yourself to him.

After lunch I headed to the Healer’s tents.  Celia wasn’t there.  That’s the lady I invited to tea.  I was told she was in bed, ill.  When I offered to check on her, they pointed me to the multi-bed house near the Herald’s.  When I got there, she was lying on the far bed, covered in blankets and shivering.  Her temp was through the roof.  I thought she was asleep, but when I took my hand away from her forehead, she said that it felt nice, and to please don’t go.  She didn’t bother to open her eyes. 

The bucket next to her had the remains of her breakfast, partially digested.  The room was dark and closed up.  Do healers here not bother with sick people or did they assume it was something small?  I grabbed the bucket and washed it out with snow.  More slush than snow, now. It really is getting warmer.  After cleaning up the room, I opened the windows.  Sticking my head out, one of mine spotted me asked what I was doing.  I told him there was a sick lady in here just left alone, and asked for some clean linens and blankets for the bed and a bowl and cloth.  He ran off.

He came back a few minutes later with everything I’d asked for as well as some weak broth, a pitcher of cold tea, and a stool.  After thanking him, I set to work.  Her covers were soaked through, so I changed them out.  I pulled off her clothing, too, before covering her more lightly.

Garalen showed up in the door.  Of course.  When I glanced up, she said that if I got sick, she wasn’t tending me.  She volunteered that potions don’t work on illnesses, and mages can’t heal them, but that people tended by mages tend to survive.  I figure that magic heals damage, and illness is doing minute amounts of damage.  Nothing to really heal at any given time, but healing periodically will improve the person’s chances.  Just guessing, though.

I sponged her off, to make her feel better.  Cleaner, at least.  Her fever was less by then, because cold works that way.  When I left, she was covered up again in fresh blankets, though not as many.  The tea and the broth were left on the stool next to her.  A freshly cleaned bucket was on her other side.  The place was brighter, and smelled much better, because damn, people need to learn to clean.  A quick wipe of the floor gets rid of the mud and blood.  And these are supposedly healers?  Germ theory, anyone?

Garalen walked with me back to Ethelathe cottage.  “She’s never going to know you helped her, and she’s still going to hate you.”  I shrugged.  She was less likely to die.  “Chrissy, don’t you even care that she would have gleefully reported your death the other day?”

“Not really.  She wasn’t feeling well, and I helped.  It makes the whole place feel less spikey/hurty if people aren’t feeling horrible.  It makes me more comfortable.”

“I don’t believe you did that for selfish reasons.”

“Hey, I can be as selfish as the next person.  I’m inherently lazy.  Get me to a place where I have lots of money, a home, and can eat bonbons on the couch without everything going wrong, and you’re going to find me welded to that couch.”  I don’t think she believed me, but I’m not lying.

The rest of the day was easy.  Relaxed at home.  Took a bath.  Bathed the kids.  What is it about kids that resists the entire concept of bath time?  Made spaghetti for twenty-six.  Two more moved into the tents out back.  Put the Tweedles back in the bath, because food fight.  Garalen and Andrew are studiously ignoring each other.  It’s been a good day.  Goodnight, baby.  I have no clue how long it'll take to get the breach closed right now.  Depends on what the Herald does in Storm Coast.

I just realized I never told Varric how tall I used to be. Ah, well. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is so long, but dialogue takes up a lot of space. Should I go back to referential dialogue, or do you guys like the occasional actual conversation?


	46. Day 39

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Food poisoning, yarn sluts, almost ensnared, Varric, and shadowed elves.

Day 39:

Whatever it is that is prowling outside my dreams is still there.  It’s knocking politely on the glass wall.  Not letting it in. 

Found out why Garalen was so annoyed with me tending Celia yesterday.  Turns out that Cook had deliberately fed her spoiled meat.  It was a “punishment” for being in on the plot to kill me.  The entire Templar encampment is suffering gastro-intestinal illness issues as well.  That’s why Andrew is here, as well.  He was invited so he could avoid the platter of doom.  Stew of Doom, actually.  The fam took it upon themselves to “take care” of the Templar problem.  Looks like Varric was right, too.  I have some human people looking out for me as well.  I’m not sure how I feel about this.  I’ve been assured that there shouldn’t be any lasting problems, and no one will die.

I was in sewing today.  Actually, I was crocheting today.  I can’t knit, and my sewing’s not the best.  I can mend fine, but actually making clothes?  Without a sewing machine?  I don’t think so.  Crocheting, though.  That I can do.  I’m getting to work with some lovely yarns.  “Grab some yarn and make a blanket or something” is a rather vague direction, but when I saw the yarn selection, I nearly squee’d.  There is this gorgeous butter yellow in a lightweight fuzzy, and a complimentary hazelish color in the same yarn.  Enough to do at least one afghan.  SO I SNAGGED THEM.  Mine.  I’m hoarding them in my own bag, provided for the purpose.  Why yes, I’m a yarn slut.  Why do you ask? 

I warned Cook at lunch that I was going to bring Ethelathe up to the mess tent for dinner.  A large influx of twenty plus extra people can really mess with planning.  She thanked me for the warning.  Told Hannah, the Sew lead, that I was going to work at home for the afternoon.  It had occurred to me that I need to get a good look at all these people that Varric is claiming are part of my “open clan”. 

So, I meandered up to my little nook and did my thing.  Instead of checking on the ones I knew were mine, I opened my SELF up to looking at everyone.  A few of the Templars were edging my way.  Not many, and they weren’t “bright” like Daniel and Andrew were bright.  I’d kind of assumed that those two were bright because they were or could be Templars.  Maybe it’s a dislocated thing.  The healing tent has a few.  Out of the fourteen mages, three of them feel connected.  They’re bright, too, but not nearly as bright as Dan and Andrew.  I can feel the dull spots of the tranquil milling around.  They’re not mine, per se, but I’m not sure they can actually form that connection anymore.  I’ll treat them as mine.

Over at the forge and stables, everyone there is at least partially mine except for one.  Don’t know who he is, but he’s not Harritt, so I’m good.  In the soldier’s camp, we have a few that are lightly part of us.  The bonds are tenuous and delicate, but they’re there.  Nearly all the servant types running about are at least lightly connected.  Up toward the chantry, there are actually a couple.  Not sure who, but that’s interesting.  Adan is still firmly in my camp.  He’s almost as solid as Harritt. 

Okey dokey, now how to explain this one in a way that makes sense.  As I was moving my attention from Adan’s toward the tavern, I deliberately avoided the bright spot near there.  It’s a bit brighter than Andrew and Daniel. Maybe half again, at most, brighter.  I’m betting that spot is Solas.  Anyway, as I moved past, that bright spot somehow reached out and “snagged” some part of me as I passed.  I admit, I panicked.  I sort of TWISTED, and then THINNED that part, so it slipped away from whatever touched it.  And pulled my SELF back to my nook.  I don’t feel bruised or anything, but I’m going to keep my SELF to myself for a while.  I looked “me” over and don’t see anything added or taken away or changed, but I don’t know if I’d know.  I went home, returned to my crochet. 

Honestly, if I hadn’t promised to bring the denizens of Ethelathe to the mess tent, I would have holed up in the cottage.  As it was, we all traipsed up toward the mess.  It’s right outside the tavern, so I could pop in to say hello to Flyssa.  It was a lovely meal, with some kind of roast beast, roast veggies I mostly recognized, and charred potatoes (potatoes baked by putting them in embers from a fire).  The comradery was nice.  Everyone was friendly.

I finished quickly, because fat girls and food, right?  Actually, because I was hella hungry after traipsing over most of Haven without my body.  Anyway, while I was watching everyone eat, a messenger delivered a note.  I opened it, and it was full of weird scribbles.  Sort of looked like Arabic mixed with Norse runes mixed with a bunch of drips of ink.  The messenger was waiting.  I took a stab in the dark.  “Tell him I don’t read Elvhen.  Or speak it.”

That poor messenger.  The boy gaped at me like I’d performed some sort of magic.  He took back the message I was holding out and stumbled off.  Varric slipped in next to me shortly thereafter.  “You just made me twenty sovereigns.”

“Oh?” I queried.

“Yep, you didn’t have any recognition in your face when you saw that note, and you figured out who sent it.  Ten sovereigns each.”

“Gonna share?  I’ve no money at all.  And figuring it out wasn’t hard.  Who else around here’s gonna send incomprehensible squiggles to random people?”

“You’re not getting paid?  Even I’m getting paid, and I was dragged here by the chest hair.  And I’m stealing “incomprehensible squiggles”.”

“Not yet.  Should get paid next cycle, I suppose.  And you’re welcome to the phrase.”

“Those kids yours?” he asked.

“Depends on what you mean by mine.  I didn’t birth them, but I’ve brought them home with me.  They weren’t being treated at all well in the orphan home.  If I thought I could get away with it, I’d bring Daniel home with me, too.  He’s human on the outside, though, so they actually care for him decently.”

“Human on the outside, huh?  What’s he on the inside?”

“Daniel.  That’s enough, isn’t it?”

“You know, for someone who avoids Chuckles like the plague, you sure talk like him sometimes.”  I gave him the look I give my daughter or the Tweedles when they’re doing something stupid.  “Fine, don’t believe me.”

I sighed and looked at my hands.  “Some of his views and some of my views coincide.  I’ll grant you that.  But I think we are all people.  The only difference between people is the meat suit they wear and how strongly they connect to the fade,” I replied.  “Or the stone,” I added with a smile.

“Meat suit?”  He’s so adorable when he’s surprised.

“Eadras has a problem with that one, too.  I will admit that different meat suits have different in-built proficiencies, if that helps.”

“You’re strange, you know that?  And I’m stealing “Meat Suit”, too.  So how does an abomination work?”

“They’re wandering around in stolen meat suits,” I grinned at him. He laughed.  He has such an infectious laugh.

We chatted further about general things, but that exchange sticks in my head. As the evening progressed, Garalen had a few too many drinks.  Apparently they haven’t broken into the NearBeer yet.  Bunches of casks and such out back, so that’s probably it.  She was singing about being a Yankee Doodle when Andrew picked her up and headed outside with a frustrated look on his face.  Eadras took the Tweedles home.  My people were heading out in twos and threes.  Good.  Feren and Gethon were waiting for me, so I bid Varric goodnight.

HE was standing outside, watching the mess tent, when the three of us left.  I pretended I didn’t see him, since he was lingering in the shadows. 

Went home, heading for bed. Andrew has Garalen stuffed into her cot, snoring. The Tweedles are tucked in. Can’t decide if Varric is befriending me or spying on me. Maybe both. Oh, something I'm noticing. I'm getting better at remembering details of my day. Conversations, smells, textures, and the like. I'm not sure if it's because I'm journaling reliably or something else. 

Anyway, veiling and sleeping, coming up.  Goodnight, my dear.  Pleasant dreams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, the Cook deliberately infected the Templars and the Healer (and a few others) with food poisoning. http://www.foodborneillness.com/campylobacter_food_poisoning/ for a rundown of what and its effects. As they say in the military, Don't Mess with the Mess. That and "always befriend the cooks."
> 
> And yes, I'm a total yarn slut in real life.
> 
> No, Varric didn't share his winnings. Did you expect him to? He sidestepped that one neatly, eh?
> 
> The incomprehensible note said: "It's polite to open the door when someone knocks." And now you know something Chrissy doesn't know. :)


	47. Day 40

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I have a guitar, painting the things red the hard way, and Garalen gets smooched!

Day 40:

I heard something scrabbling at the “dirt” under my glass wall in my dreams, so now I’ve put my dreamscape into a glass bubble.  Just after I finished the modifications, something hit the globe.  Hard.  Somebody’s frustrated, and I feel like giggling.  Probably a desire demon with nobody to play with.  Now nobody goes in, nobody goes out, and I know my dreams are just that.  Willy Wonka for the Win. Plain old dreams, just like back on earth.  I suppose you could say I’ve successfully encapsulated a personal piece of the fade to play in.  That feels like a major win, but I’m not exactly sure why or how.  I am curious why more people don’t do this.  It’s got to be much safer to keep the demons out than argue with them in their own domain.  Unless there’s a down side I haven’t seen yet.  I feel fine, though.  No lessening or weakening of the “me” I see when I look at my SELF.  Maybe I’ll put in a door for when I want to have a look around.  Later.

I awoke after first light today.  Thank goodness.  I was getting tired of waking before the sun.  Andrew and Garalen were holding hands in their sleep.  I left them alone. The Tweedles and I had a morning tickle fight with our cuddles, and woke everyone up.  Oatmeal for breakfast.  Dum wanted his with spaghetti sauce.  *shudder* Must be a boy thing. 

We were just finishing school when there was a knock on the door.  A messenger stood there with an oddly wrapped package addressed to me in what I can only describe as FRILLY handwriting.   It had loops and swirls and little circles dotting the Is, and the ink had glitter in it.  I opened it and it was a guitar case.  Inside was not just a plain wooden guitar, but a beautiful instrument, inlaid with what looks like mother of pearl swirled down the fretboard.  The back was delicately painted with a white tree with some sort of inlaid green stone leaves.  The sides had lacy scrollwork etched in the wood.  There was a butterfly lacquered below the soundhole.  I was about halfway through looking at it in awe when the messenger left, smiling.

I immediately strung it and strummed it.  The tone was perfect. The other denizens of Ethelathe were smiling at me when I opened my eyes.  After being encouraged to play something, I moved into More Than Words, by Extreme.  When I was done, the room was silent.  Eadras asked if all the songs I knew were going to be unknown to them when I was done.  I admit, I faltered a little bit.  When I said “probably”, he nodded, smiling.  If they were all of that quality, he told me, then no one was going to mind at all.

I asked if he wanted another, in a different style.  Everybody nodded.  So I started the haunting notes of Once Upon a December, from Anastasia.  When I was done, I told everyone to make their bets at the tavern, because I was going to win us some money.  People had apparently been betting against me being able to sing.  That got laughter, because these people had heard me at the bonfire as well.  I put my guitar away and ran off happily to thank Josie, Garalen fast on my heels.

As I came up to the Chantry doors, I noticed that someone had splashed multiple colors of paint all over the Chantry board we had made.  It wasn’t words or anything, but considering it also covered the things posted, I knew it was vandalism.  I’d been happy just a moment prior, but seeing the damage hurt my heart.  I touched the paint, and it was dry.  I knew that if the elves had known about this, I’d have been told.  I pulled the painted pages down. 

I started shoving the board to the side of the building.  Garalen asked what I was doing.  I told her if they wanted the thing painted, then so it would be.  Paint was thick in places, in drips and drabs.  I would fix it for them.  She told me to hold on and got her Templar.  He huffed at me, but moved the board for us.

Then I had an idea.  “Andrew, Templars dampen magic, right?”

He looked at me askance and drawled, “Yeeeeesssss, why?”

“Is it possible for you to make a sort of bubble, where magic on the inside isn’t detectable outside, and vice versa?”

He looked thoughtful for a moment.  “You want to do something, but you don’t want anyone to feel it.  Right?”  I nodded.  “I may be able to help with that.  I think I know how.”

“Let me know when I can start,” I said.  He nodded in turn.

A few minutes later, the look of concentration on his face eased.  “I think I have it, Chrissy.  Try it now.”

I centered myself and gathered the glowy mist.  I moved it over the board and WANTED the paint to evenly coat the whole thing.  Then I twisted the pigment to reflect the red spectrum.  The whole thing, when I opened my eyes, was a beautiful, glossy, even Chantry Red.  Andrew was staring at me in amazement, and Garalen looked smug.  I took a deep breath, and then I apparently fell over. 

I awoke a few minutes later.  Andrew had let go of whatever he was doing, and more mist flowed into the space.  As I “refilled” myself, I stood up, only wobbling a little bit.  Garalen had been explaining what happened and glaring at Andrew.  I held up a hand.  “Andrew, that was wonderful.  Remind me to ask for a bigger space next time.  I think I used up all the glowy mist in your whatever it was as well as my own, and that’s why I passed out.  I’m better.  Let’s get the board back in place.”

I was not permitted to help with moving it.  The others put the board back in place.  I had a thought as we were about to leave it.  I scooped up a “handful” of whatever it is that I’ve been playing with, and placed a handprint on the board.  And left it there, where no one but a mage would be able to see it.  I was still a bit wobbly, so Garalen held my arm as I went in the Chantry.  Andrew walked with us, glancing at Garalen every so often.  She was studiously not looking at him. 

As we approached Josie’s door, Andrew stopped me.  “Chrissy, do you think your people should keep their promises?”

“Of course!  If someone says something, they should mean it.”  I realized I may have made a mistake when Andrew grinned and Garalen paled. 

He looked at Garalen and said, “She’s safe here.  Let’s go outside and… talk.  You made me a promise.”  He grasped her hand, tucked it into the crook of his elbow, and strolled off with her in tow.  I knocked on Josie’s door, shaking my head.

When Lady Montilyet opened the door to me, she smiled.  “Did you get it?”

I was probably vibrating I was so excited/pleased/happypuppy.  “Yes!  It’s BEAUTIFUL, and sounds so mellow.  It’s more than I ever thought.  I was expecting something plain and serviceable and you sent a work of art.  What do I owe you, my lady, for the guitar?”

“I’m so glad you love it.  You don’t owe me anything.  That particular instrument hasn’t been played in some time, and needs the exercise.  Keep it in good health, and think of me when you use it.  Perhaps you could play for me sometime?”  SQUEE! IT WAS JOSIE’S GUITAR!  I held up my arms, asking, and she leaned down and gave me a hug. I thanked her probably way too many times, but my happy was WAY back.  I didn’t even get woozy until I reached the Chantry doors on my way out. 

Andrew and Garalen reached me at about that time.  Garalen looked well-kissed.  Andrew’s hair wasn’t exactly neat, either.   I refrained from saying anything, but I couldn’t help but smile.  They noticed I wasn’t quite steady, and Andrew hefted me up.  You know, for a fat girl, I seem to spend a lot of time being carried about.  I protested and people stared, but I might have been a sack of potatoes for all the notice Andrew or Garalen took of me.  “Keep complaining and I’ll put you over my shoulder,” was all Andrew said.  I’m just glad Varric wasn’t at his usual place.

I was deposited in Ethelathe and told to stay there.  Good thing I just had paperwork to do.  Josie had sent up some more names and information for me to handle.  It took me to the end of the day to work up the new schedules, but they were done.

It was a day.  Good and bad, and Garalen got smooched.  And I have a beautiful guitar! I think I may have figured out my wooziness issue, too.  I seem to only have problems when trying something new.  Like flexing a new muscle.  The sealed environment with no refills didn't help, either.  I need to learn to continuously move the magic about, in and out of me, instead of gathering what I think is a good amount and using that and my internal stuff.  External magic instead of internal, as it were.

Have a good night, my sweet.  I miss cuddling with you.


	48. Day 41, Drakonis 12, 9:41 Dragon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Heart to heart with Varric, ogling the inquisition at the baths, playing with glowy dust, and planning payday with Josie.

Day 41, Drakonis 12, 9:41 Dragon: (I have dates!  Yay!)

I awoke refreshed.  No dreams that I remember.  No obvious detrimental effects on my SELF.

Today I had to put up the revised schedules.  I included the new names.  I’m now scheduling for quite a few people.  62 elves (Not the lady with Mother Giselle), 39/81 of the human servants, and 17 of the messengers, who are generally teens.  That’s 118 people I’m scheduling for.  I’m actually getting notes about preferences, don’t work with that person, and time off requests.  So many that I had to alter my own schedule to include more scheduling and conflict resolution time.  I’m still taking the shit jobs with my guys, but the nicer ones are going to be more paperwork.

About conflict resolution, today I actually had to do some.  Most was easy, like figuring out who sleeps where and whether something is a good idea or not.  Some, not so much.  It’s like dealing with squabbling children.  “She gave it to me”, “It was a loan”.  Well, since I couldn’t get to the bottom of the issue with the yelling, I just took a page out of Solomon’s book.  I ripped the headscarf they were arguing over in half, presented a half to each one, and walked off.  Now nobody’s happy.  But at least they’re quiet.  Two hours of that and I’m done.

I was still pissed about the vandalism yesterday.  Eadras outright laughed at me when I told him I was taking nails up, but if I had to fix that stupid paint again, I was going to stick my pages to the air in FRONT of the board, and damn the consequences.

Luckily, the board wasn’t altered.  Visibly.  There was, however, something wrong with it.  I could feel it.  It wasn’t exactly itchy.  It was niggly, but not itchy.  The difference between a hair brushing your skin and a bug bite.  Both make you rub or scratch the spot, but one’s much more annoying.  So I LOOKED at it.  Somebody had put his handprint across mine.  Mine was going up/down, fingers up.  His, and I assume his because the hand was much bigger, was going left/right, fingers left.

I nailed up my paperwork, and then the mischief fairy bit me.  I gathered up the glowy dust and wrote, “You have a huge hand” in common across the part of the board without papers on it.  I then put another handprint in the bottom right corner, fingers spread wide.  I brushed away the old handprints, including his.

The extra copy I took into Josie. She seemed delighted to see me, but she’s always delighted to see everyone.  We chatted for a bit, girl things.  I requested another tent with cots (we’ve had a few people arriving) and she told me she’d see what she could do.  She also told me that the purser would be handling pay for my people out of her office.  “Just have everyone line up here on Drakonis 16th,” she said, pointing at her door.  “We’ll be managing it during mealtimes, so come up lunch, dinner, even breakfast if they want.  There’ll be sandwiches or something in case the line gets long.”  I borrowed a piece of paper and a charcoal stick and wrote out the note.  I thanked her for the information, the management of pay, and the use of her supplies, before heading out. 

As I was going through the door, she asked me to wait, and handed me a whole stack of blank paper.  Probably 100 sheets!  “Just let me know if you need more.”  I stuck the note about pay up on the board, and meandered over to the tavern for lunch.  I was in the mood for stew.

Varric was sitting in his usual lunch spot, and waved me over.  I went over and sat with him.  We talked about inconsequentials for a while.  About halfway through the meal, he looked at me and asked if I had any idea why the Templar camp had all come down with something all at the same time.  I choked.  He pounded me on the back until I got him to stop, because it wasn’t helping.  Eyes watering, I asked him why he’d ask me that.  “You have the only healthy Templar under your roof, Chrissy.  It doesn’t take a scholar.”

“It wasn’t me, and I didn’t find out until later,” was all I said.

“Interesting.  So who did it?”

“The cooks.  The Templars pissed them off.  Garalen invited our Templar member to move in for a few days.”

“You know, you’re really good at that.”

“What?”

“Telling the truth in a way that obscures the truth.”  He grinned.  “You’re a puzzle, Chrissy.”

“I’m not.  I’m just me.  A nobody interchangeable with any number of other people with pointy ears.  People don’t even notice if we’re boys or girls, so long as the work gets done.”

Apparently this was funny, because he chuckled.  “You stand out.  You’re opinionated, and you’re the girliest elf I’ve ever seen.”  Girliest?  I must have looked blank.  He rubbed his face.  “How to put this.  You’ve more curves than some people have seen on elves before.”

“That’s a roundabout way of saying I’m fat.  I get it.”  I went to stand up.  I wasn’t hungry anymore.

“Whoah, Cuddles, where are you going?”

“I’m leaving.  Enjoy your lunch.”

He put his hand on my arm.  “I’m sorry, Chrissy.  Obviously you have objections to someone mentioning your physique.”

“You’re not the first person to get a good laugh at the expense of the fat girl.”  I sighed.  “You won’t be the last, either, I’m sure.”  He looked sort of confused, but I wasn’t in a mood to explain myself.

He threw a sovereign on the table and told me to leave the dishes.  “Let’s walk, Cuddles.”  He gave my braid a light yank.

“Ow!” I said, but I walked with him.

As we got past the soldier encampment, he spoke.  “Now, I’m going to apologize for what I actually said, and you’re going to apologize for reacting to what you think I said. Then you’re going to tell me what’s going on.  Lady Chrysopal, I’m supremely sorry that I mentioned your curves.”  He looked at me expectantly.

“Fine.  I’m sorry, Master Tethras, for thinking you were making fun of me and calling me fat,” I huffed.

“There now, all friends again.”  He bumped me with his elbow.  “So, why do you think being fat, as you put it, is a bad thing?”

“Years of teasing and torment, actually.  Everyone where I come from would love to look like the average elf does here.  Hell, I got here, and once again, I’m the fat girl.  The draft horse among the thoroughbreds.”  I kicked at the melting snow.

He started small, with a chuckle, and it gradually got bigger.  “You really don’t get it!” he chortled between guffaws.

“Well, perhaps you could explain it to my simple mind, Child of Stone.” My voice was rather flat, as I really don’t like being laughed at.  He sobered quickly.

“Now I know your story’s true, Cuddles.  There’s no place here that thinks being way too damn bony is better than being soft and cuddly.”  He got a faraway look in his eyes for a moment.  “Although a bit of firm muscle is often a good thing, especially in the right places.”

“Varric?”

“Huh?  Oh, yes, well, you’ve several important denizens of Haven watching you walk away and you think they want your rear end to be less…”  he trailed off, eyeing me. 

“Jiggly?”  I asked.

“Yeah, that’s a good word.  And I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but a lot of you elven ladies are starting to flesh out a bit.  Less bony.”

“Amazing what not being afraid of going out in public to get something to eat will do for a girl.”  He was sweet, but I wasn’t sure he was telling the truth about the male people around here preferring heftier women.

“So I gather.”  He grinned.  “Have you met the Seeker yet?”

“She followed me during my walk with Trevelyan, as you did, but I didn’t meet her, no.”  I looked sideways at him.  “I bet she’s an incurable romantic.”

“Seeker?” he scoffed.  “I don’t think so.  Ruffles, sure, but not the Seeker.”

I smiled.  “Care to make a wager?  5 Sovereigns says she is.”

“I’ll take that.”

I nodded.  “So who are these “important denizens”, huh?”

“I’m not telling, Cuddles.  You’ll figure it out.”

“Varric, did you see who was playing with my bulletin board?’  I didn’t look at him.

“You mean the paint?  I didn’t see, but I heard it was some unhappy humans.  You got it fixed up real fast, though.”

Not what I meant, but okay.  We jabbered a bit more, but I had to talk to Harritt, so we parted ways.

I wandered up the path to Harritt’s place.  I told him I only had a minute, but had he ever heard of a fountain pen?  He hadn’t, darn the luck.  I kissed his cheek, because he looked like he needed some human interaction, and headed off to my afternoon job. 

I was on bathhouse duty for the first time ever.  My job was to hand out towels and soaps, collect towels and soaps, and do general cleaning.  It wasn’t all that hard.  I did see way too many naked people, though.  Apparently humans here are only body shy when NOT in the baths.  Inquisibabe is still in the lead for the nice butt contest, but there are some soldiers who compete mightily for second place.  I didn’t mind the job today at all.  I may need to put myself on baths duty more often.  I’m probably going to have to fight with the other ladies over it, now that I think about it.  Meh, I’ll let them win.

Soldier boy was waiting to walk me home.  It wasn’t even all that late.

Anyway, dinner, school, singing, bed.  A fun day.  Heart to heart with Varric.  I think he fancies our beloved Seeker.  Well, goodnight my baby.  Mommy’s going to bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited for a minor continuity issue.


	49. Day 42, Drakonis 13, 9:41 Dragon, afternoon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Started out as a normal paperwork day, and then went sideways. I did NOT overdo it, and people are overprotective.

Day 42, Drakonis 13, 9:41 Dragon, afternoon:

When I awoke this morning, it was snowing.  I thought it was SPRING!  Winter’s last gasp is what Eadras is calling it.  That’s quite poetic, really.  It snowed all morning, but nothing really stuck, so it is just slushy and muddy.

After looking through my messages, I put a sign up on the door saying I needed at least 3 days’ notice for schedule changes.  I don’t bother with nails at home.  Andrew was packing to go back to the Templar area.  I told him that if he ever needed a roof and we had one, he could come back.  I suggested he could take Garalen’s bed, and she flushed.  He just grinned and said he’d be fine.  (I know they’re not at that stage yet, but she’s so easy to fluster.)

Leorah changed up my clothing again.  I can’t find the brown tunic.  Instead, I have a red one which looks suspiciously like the red cloth “remnant” that Seggrit had me deliver to her.  With cream-colored leather leggings.  My clothes look like Christmas, and I’m not sure I like it.  Red and green tunics, green dress, and cream and black leggings.  At least my smalls are still normal.

Mika didn’t come home last night.  I’m going to head up to Seggrit to see if she stayed with him last night.  I’m not feeling any strong distress from anyone when I touch the threads connecting us, but I’m not sure how bad it would have to be for me to feel it.  She’s still there, still strong.  I’m betting that everything’s fine.

We did school.  The Tweedles have their multiplication tables memorized to 12, which is very impressive.  Daniel is past that, but he’s getting the word problems for real world applications.  I have him calculating things like how much wood he needs to do something.  Nothing geometric yet, just logically extrapolating lengths.  They’re all doing well with reading.  Well in advance of the kinds of things I’d expect from their age group on earth.

No disputes to mediate yet today.  Must have shocked everyone yesterday when I ripped the headscarf.  I mentioned to Eadras that I wanted everyone to get two days’ worth of dry rations for their go bags.  He nodded, and said he’d pass it along.  Also asked about planning a bonfire for the 17th of this month. We could make it a monthly deal, an unofficial official way to let off steam.

I headed out, and was followed by a male elf I didn’t know.  I mean, I knew his face, but I didn’t know him.  When I stopped to ask why he was following me, he told me that he was my guard for the day.  He was dressed in leathers, and had knives like Garalen.  Guess I have a new babysitter. Well, Elias and I continued.  I told him he could walk with me, but I’d prefer he didn’t follow me.

We meandered through the Commander’s area.  I asked if he needed anything, and he didn’t.  I told him that I was planning to have a bonfire on the 17th, and that he was more than welcome to attend.  He said he’d keep it in mind, and a smile bloomed slowly across his face.  I smiled back, and continued on my way.

I stopped by Seggrit’s store, but he wasn’t there.  The underling tending it said he hadn’t come out yet.  WELL.  When we got closer to his place, it became very obvious that both he and Mika were doing Just Fine.  I left quickly, ears burning.

I waved at Varric as we passed his fire, and he waved back.  I continued up to the bulletin board.  I LOOKED at it, and my words had been erased.  In their place, it read “And yours are very small”.  My handprint was overlaid with a larger one, with the fingers between my smaller ones.  I removed the message and my handprint, leaving the other, which I was surprised I could do.  (I had expected to have to remove both handprints.)  I wrote “My hands are normal size”, added a happy face, and put a handprint in an upper corner.  Elias was looking at me strangely.  “What?” I asked.  He shook his head, saying nothing.

I headed up to Adan’s.  I hadn’t seen him in a tenday, and I’d missed him.  He greeted me with a nod and a small smile, and asked if I’d be willing to help him brew some potions.  He was almost out, and he figured they'd be better if I did it.  I told him I’d never brewed anything but elfroot healing potion.  He said he’d show me.  Elias posted himself where he could watch us, and Adan and I got to work making healing potions and regeneration potions.

Adan has a much bigger cauldron than I do.  I say that in my defense.  My cauldron holds maybe 6 quarts.  It’s the size of a cast iron dutch oven.  That’s why we portion in ounce increments at most.  Adan has a huge cauldron out back that holds 90 gallons of healing potion.  And we might have used his 50 gallon for regeneration potions, too.  I should not have been dizzy otherwise.  It was also not my fault that Elias freaked out over a little wooziness. I wasn’t even all that woozy, but Elias had already run off. 

Then Adan got it into his head to offer me a lyrium potion.  And was highly upset when I refused.  I didn’t say it out loud, but I am NOT drinking titan blood.  Eww.  I told him I wouldn’t drink lyrium if I was dying.  I told him a Templar and the mages had told me I wasn’t a mage; so therefore I didn’t want lyrium.  I didn’t know how it would affect me.

Well, apparently Elias had run to freak out Feren.  So Feren came running, and Gethon saw him running as he passed the stables, so Gethon came after him, and Philomena and Marta saw them and also came along. So everyone came running up to behind Adan’s house, and I was FINE.  Then some others showed up just “because they had a feeling something was wrong”.  There was nothing wrong.  There was no reason for nine elves to be staring at me like that.  I wasn’t even dizzy any more.  There was no need for them all to march me back to Ethelathe right past Solas and Varric and Seggrit and all the curious eyes.  At least I wasn’t carried this time.

And now Eadras has me on house arrest until “you learn to take care of yourself instead of pushing too hard.” Meanie.  I didn’t even get to switch out books for the boys.

I admit, I may have grumbled rather loudly about overprotectiveness and being a big girl, couldn’t they see that, and maybe something about not appreciating being treated like a child as we headed back to Ethelathe, but no one listens to me when they don’t feel like it.  So now I’m grounded.  Eadras sent word up to Josie that I wouldn’t be around for a few days. I “overdid it” and needed rest.  Did not.  I didn’t even pass out this time.

Anyway, I’m feeling grumbly.  I’m going to go play in the fade.  I’ll be up in time for dinner, I’m sure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For a good idea of Adan's cauldron, check this out: http://www.agrisupply.com/carolina-cooker-cast-iron-stew-pot/p/56693/
> 
> And yes, he got those cauldrons specially to see if they could do bulk potions.


	50. Day 42, Drakonis 13, 9:41 Dragon, evening

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leorah has her say. Chrissy is clueless sometimes, but they're tired of her taking chances with her health.

Day 42, Drakonis 13, 9:41 Dragon, evening:

When I got to sleep, the opaque gray glass sphere I’d made was… different.  Beautiful.  Honestly breathtaking.  Someone had modified my sphere to what I think was Lavenderine.  Used for calming, fostering trust, dreamwork, and increasing dream recall back home.  Regrettably, I couldn’t leave it that way, though.  It was my sphere, and I couldn’t let someone mess with it with impunity.  So I swirled it with Chrysopal.  That’s supposed to help someone be less visible, decrease confusion, and enhance memory, as well as being a protection stone that works better the more danger one is in.  Another stone used in dreamwork.  And it’s a signature, as well.  I’m betting it was the Dread Wolf playing with my fade-space.

I did awake calmer, less frustrated.  What I didn’t understand is why everyone thought I needed to be watched so closely.  So I got up and checked who was in Ethelathe cottage.  Leorah was carding wool lazily.  She spotted me and immediately tried to hustle me back to bed.  I told her I’d just woken up, and I wasn’t tired.  I picked up my crochet bag and got back to my afghan. 

I looked at her.  “Why are you all hemming me in?”

“What do you mean?” she blinked.

“Every time I go somewhere or do something, you guys seem to panic.  I didn’t even pass out today, and everyone marched me back here and ensconced me in bed.”  I was probably pouting, honestly.

“Can you accept that you’re important to us?”

“You guys are important to me, too, but the only thing I’ve done to limit your movements is ask you to go in groups.”

She eyed me.  “I’m going to be blunt,” she said.  “Chrissy, you’ve passed out three times in the last tenday from pushing yourself magically with no training.  The fact that you had to add “today” to your statement about passing out would have you ensconcing anyone else in bed.  Let’s look at what’s been going on recently.  You’ve foiled an ANNULMENT, by the fade.  Andraste’s tits, woman, there’ve been three attempts on your life in the last two tendays!  You give yourself the shit jobs, even though there are others to do the nasty work.  You’re doing scheduling for a hundred people, mediation, healer work, grunt work, checking on everyone, parenting, interfacing with the higher ups, teaching school twice a day, town construction, planning for some disaster you won’t talk to us about, chipping in at various workplaces even when not assigned, and STILL act like you’re not doing enough.”

My mind stuttered on the three attempts on my life.  “What do you mean, three attempts on my life?”  I dropped my crocheting in my lap.

She held up her three fingers, putting them down one by one as she spoke. “One, there was the failed annulment.  We firmly believe that was intended to kill you, as they thought you a minor hedge mage.  Second, there were several attempts to access the cottage the day you saved Tanya. Third, Gethon stopped someone from stabbing you while you were working in the stables.  And I only recently found out from Eadras that you are DELIBERATELY making a target of yourself.”  She sounded a bit irate about that last one.  I winced, I think.

Well.  There was nothing I could really say to that.  I think they’re overestimating how much work I’m actually doing, because I seem to be doing a lot of playing, but I didn’t know about the attacks, and that bothers me.  She picked up my needlework and pushed me back to my room, handing it to me. 

“Adan came by today while you were asleep.  He wanted to thank you for the help.  You provided the same quality to his work as you do to yours.  He seemed to think that was significant.”  She pursed her lips.  “Probably means you overdid his work, too,” she said tartly.

“Now, would you do us all a favor and take a day off? For our peace of mind?”  She took a deep breath.  “You don’t realize what a difference you’ve made here in a month, Falon.  Did you know I’ve gone several tendays now without hurting? Anywhere?  We have soldiers patrolling the streets that are protecting us instead of preying on us.  Nobody’s been hit in 3 days.”  My head jerked up at that.  Only three days?  Why wasn’t I told about this?  They’re keeping things from me, and that actually aches.  I can’t stop what I don’t know about.

“We’re doing work we prefer, at least some of the time.  You listen to our preferences and try to accommodate us.  We’re safe, warm, well-fed, and tended.  Maybe not the elves still sleeping on bedrolls in Haven proper, but those of us here?  We’re not letting ANYTHING happen to you.  You belong to us.”  She took a deep breath.  “If you can do this for a town in less than two months, we want to see what you can do in Thedas, as the Inquisition spreads.

“One day off, Chrissy, where you spend a day doing nothing scary, okay?”

Fine.  I agreed, and tomorrow I’m spending the day at home, playing with the boys.  I guess I’m more important than I thought.  So much for invisible and interchangeable.  Still, the spice must flow, so I’ll do what they want.

Goodnight, kiddo.  I’m not going to bed, since I just woke up, but I’m putting my journal away.  I’m going to do some thinking, work on my afghan, and maybe play with Josie's guitar later.

 

 

 

Lavenderine:

  


Chrysopal:

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I included pictures of the stones I mentioned. If you want to know about their purported metaphysical properties, there are lots of sources on the web.


	51. Day 43, Drakonis 14, 9:41 Dragon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chrissy's day at home is NOT restful.

Day 43, Drakonis 14, 9:41 Dragon:

Nobody had messed with my sphere when I went back to bed last night.  I wonder if he knows what the stones mean.  Assuming it’s him.

Anyway, I had every intention of being good today.  I made no plans, and didn’t do anything magical.  However, it wasn’t the nice, quiet day my people apparently wanted for me.  Actually, I was good.  I didn’t go anywhere.  I didn’t even clean or cook anything.  I didn’t even work on my paperwork, since Philomena and Marta confiscated it from me when I picked it up.

I did do school for the boys, including Daniel.  Dan’s reached the point where he escapes every few days whether we come get him or not.  Nobody minds.  He’s ours, whether the other humans know it or not, and I think they do.  Shortly after school time, the parade started.

First, a runner from Cook brought a tureen of chicken soup.  I thanked her, and sent thanks to Cook.  (I found out her name, actually.  It’s Ethel Cook.  And she’ll swat anyone who calls her Ethel.)  Shortly after, Harritt came by to talk to me about the “Fountain Pen” that I’d asked about.  A few (bad) sketches later, heavily modified by him, and he was off, giving me a hug in parting.  I’m so glad he understood “capillary action” and the fact that it had to have controlled air exchange.  The man is a mechanical genius, and an asset to the inquisition.

After him, Hannah (the sew lead) brought some more yarn, personally.  She thought I might like the colors.  The dyers had managed an almost lilac blue and a creamy white.  We chatted for a few minutes and she admired my almost-done afghan.  I was doing a shell stitch, and she’d not seen how that one was done before, so there were demonstrations. 

She took her leave as a few girls from the bath house brought over some soaps and fresh towels.  They thought we might need them, since we had a personal bathtub.  One was an elf, Isa, and she shyly asked if she could move in with us.  Of course we accepted.  Then I shocked everyone by telling her she could bring her friend, too.  Her friend was a human, but since when does that mean anything?  Joan, her friend, dipped into an embarrassingly low curtsy.

We had some guys from the stable come by and tell us they’d gotten in some more hay, and were willing to give us some fresh straw to restuff our mattresses.  Scullery ran down to see if we had anything we needed washed or scrubbed.  Laundry ran off with our sheets and blankets after bringing fresh ones.  A passel of soldiers put up another six man tent and installed cots and bedding and a brazier.  Several more showed up with firewood refills.

Around lunchtime, Varric, Andrew, and another Templar named Gunther showed up.  Gunther seemed sweet.  We had a nice, general conversation with nobody prying about anything and they all headed out.  A mage lady I didn’t know stopped by to make sure everyone was okay, because I hadn’t stopped in to check on them in a few days.  Adan dropped by with a crate of potions and stopped to chat for a while.  Minaeve, who I hadn’t actually met yet, came by with several Tranquil.  She brought tea and cookies, and we introduced ourselves around.  They left with medikits.

 Seggrit dropped by with some “unsellables” that looked plenty sellable to me.  Fabric, some cooking herbs, salt, some vegetables, something that looked and smelled like olive oil, and a small crate of wooden dishes.  Since when is salt not sellable?  He asked several times if I was sure I was okay, and slapped my shoulder awkwardly several times before taking his leave. 

Josephine sent a note telling me to rest up and get better.  Leliana sent one written in French, and I think it said to sleep and rest.  Dormir is the same in French and Spanish, I think, though French conjugates differently, and “repos” looks like repose.  I sent a note back in Common/English saying that I thought she was telling me to rest and sleep, and that I would do my best, if so.

Literally every single workplace and general job category had someone visit or deliver something or send something or SOMETHING.  There wasn’t a half hour period all day where did didn’t have someone knocking on the door.  It was exhausting.  I don’t generally deal with people socially in large quantities well, and I got no real break from them.  Cara calmly said that if I don't check on them, apparently they're going to check on me.  I mean, yeah, I look in on them every day, but it takes twenty minutes, max.  It's not a big deal.

The people of Ethelathe teased me that I could spend all day working and come home wanting to do paperwork, but making me sit in one spot had me so exhausted I wanted to go to bed.  Anyway, after school and singing and dinner, I finally escaped out here to the druffalo bluff, where I can be alone.  I just need to recharge.  Being around people really is exhausting.  One or two is fine, but there were far more than one or two vying for attention today.

The moons are dark, and the sky is clear.  The breach lights up the night with an eerie glow.  I asked some questions of the soldiers today.  They say it takes four days at a lazy ride to reach the Storm Coast.  That means that Inquisibabe could be back as soon as tomorrow, depending on what he does there.  Hopefully he at least looks into the missing scouts and recruits the Blades of Hessarian.

Goodnight, my daughter.  Things are weird here, and I’m tired.  Sleep well, and be good.


	52. Day 44, Drakonis 15, 9:41 Dragon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Boring day, NOTHING got done. Except bargaining with Eadras, checking on everyone, chatting with Varric, entertaining the troops, playing in the fade, mediating disputes, evaluating requests, school, and leaving notes on the chantry board. Really, nothing got done.

Day 44, Drakonis 15, 9:41 Dragon:

As I was playing in my pocket of the fade last night, I watched as swirls of Lapis Lazuli and Blue Agate traced across my sphere.  Lapis Lazuli the stone you use to attract new friends or lovers, and enhance emotional bonds.  Agate, especially blue, attracts reliability and loyal friendships.  Whoever is doing this knows his stones, and is asking me to come out to play, promising it's safe. 

I changed my sphere back to the lovely Lavenderine, swirled the “sky” of it with Chrysopal, and layered two bands of Amethyst around knee and chest height.  In between, I placed the Lapis and Blue Agate.  Amethyst is for patience and waiting, and it’s a stone for enhancing the connections between the physical and spiritual worlds.  I’m not ready to come out and play, but I’m not saying no.   

I awoke later than usual.  People were up and about and smells of breakfast were in the air.  I got up and looked for my clothes, and the only thing I had available to me was smalls and the dress.  I grumbled a bit, but I put them on.  If Leorah thought putting me in a dress is going to keep me from doing menial labor, well, actually, she was right.  It’s a pretty dress, and I don’t want to mess it up. 

By the time I got the laces on the sides done, breakfast was ready.  Porridge.  I really like porridge, and they had apple bits to put on it.  Yum.  After school, Eadras told me firmly that I was allowed to check in with people, but Garalen and Elias were going to be watching me.  If they saw me doing anything they considered strenuous, I was going to be hauled home by the ears.  That just sounds painful.  I have appointments back here midafternoon, so I’m under instructions to return home after lunch.

I looked at him, and told him I’d do as I was told, so long as he stopped keeping things from me.  Leorah had slipped and told me it had only been three days since someone had been hit.  I wanted to know who, when, and the circumstances from now on, if for no other reason than keeping track of the frequency of incidents.  We needed documentation in order to show a trend and have evidence to back up any demands we might make.  If there were injuries, they needed to be seen and tended by several people for verification.  He agreed, so long as I was sensible.  His words, not mine.

I meandered off, my two babysitters in tow.  I stopped in the stables for a bit, chatting with Gethon.  He wants to teach me to ride a horse.  I’ve not been on a horse in thirty-some years, and that was one of those at the carnivals where the horse goes around in a circle with someone holding the reins.  I’m not sure it’s a good idea.  I told him I’d think about it.

I checked in with Harritt, too, but he was busy.  I left him alone.  Feren’s actually doing blunt work.  Beginning stuff, just making flat-ish things flatter.  I checked in basically everywhere, but everyone’s fine.  I’m useless today.

Stopped in the tavern for lunch.  I was herded away from the center tables to one in the corner.   I was stuffed in the corner like Baby, and there was no Patrick Swayze come to save me.  Elias on one side and Garalen on the other.    I’m not sure what they thought I was going to do, but they kept sending me wary looks.

Varric came to my rescue.  “Cuddles!  I see you’re allowed out today.”

“Sort of.  I’m under strict instructions to do nothing more difficult than lifting handkerchiefs all day.  I’m surprised they’re going to let me feed myself.”

Garalen chimed in.  “If it looks like you’re going to try to lift a whole chicken or something, we might not.”

“See?  This is what happens when you scare your friends.  I can’t tell you the times I used to have to sit on Broody so he’d actually take time to heal.  Taking breaks between adventures is important, Cuddles.”

“I’m not injured or anything.  They just think I’m overworking. Besides, I’m not allowed on adventures out here.”

“Did you ever think that maybe your friends are right?  I hear you have a habit of being carried through Haven.  Healthy people tend to walk.”

I decided a change of subject was in order. “Why Cuddles?”

“Well, there’s the obvious, that you’re carried around a lot.  Other than that, you’re small, round – Don’t look at me like that, you asked – and cute.  It was either Cuddles or Kitten, and you don’t rest enough to be Kitten.”

“She doesn’t rest at all, from what I’ve seen,” Elias added.  “Sitting down while still working doesn’t count as rest. Mental work is still work.”

Our food was delivered then.  Some sort of meat and vegetable pot pie with an incredibly flaky crust.  It smelled divine and tasted better.  I lost all interest in conversation.  They were ganging up on me anyway.  As I finished, I slipped under the table and crawled out between Elias and Varric.  “I need this recipe,” I said.  “I’m just going to bug Flyssa and maybe Cook next door.  Okay?” And the prisoner escapes!

“If you promise.  I swear I’ll sic Andrew on you if you go two steps past the Mess Tent,” Garalen said, glowering at me.

“I promise.  I’ll come back here before wandering farther than that.”

I kept my word.  I checked with Flyssa and Cook.  Cook said she’d think about giving me the recipe, but that my hands were too warm to make a good crust.  I moved among the soldiers in the tent and greeted the faces I knew.  I was invited to participate in some sort of slap game, where you have to repeat a pattern of stomps and slaps.  You didn’t slap others, just slapping your own arms, forearms, belly, places to make particular noises.  It was kind of like the light up Simon game.  Every person who completed the previous sequence got to add a step. If you missed it, you sat out. We were probably on the third or fourth game and having a blast when my guard showed up.

The laughter cut off mid-guffaw.  My babysitter looked at me.  “This does not look like asking for a recipe.”

“I did that. Cook’s thinking about it. I promised not to wander farther.  I didn’t.”

Garalen sighed at me.  “It also doesn’t look like resting.  But it does look like fun, and you kept your word, so I won’t tell.  Neither will Elias.  Right, Elias?”  She turned on him with that look that scares me and he gulped.  “Well?” she purred.  He actually took a step back from her before he said yes.  It was difficult to keep a straight face.

I said my goodbyes and we headed up to the bulletin board.  I wanted to see if the other mage had left a note.  And he had!  “If by normal, you mean tiny, then yes” it said.  My handprint had been removed, and a sketch of a person with huge hands was left in the bottom corner.  The sketch had no head, just shoulder to waist, with arms and hands.  I wiped it away.  After thinking a moment, I wrote “I’m not tiny.  I’m small, round, and cute.”  I put two handprints in the dust, but this time I concentrated and made them colored.  I made the left look like Lapis Lazuli and the right like Blue Agate.  We’ll see if our board-fellow and our fade-dude are the same person.  Well, at least we’ll see if it’s mentioned.  I can only get a yes or a maybe on this one.

It’s actually quite interesting to leave invisible notes.  I think I’m going to start looking in other places for them.  I was going to visit Josie, but when I headed toward the chantry door, I stumbled.  My shoe caught on a rock.  Garalen glared at me.  I protested that I only wanted to see Minaeve, but apparently “Minaeve is too close to the Ambassador”.  I was herded back home after they adamantly refused to let me anywhere near the apothecary’s cottage.  Elias said I was “obviously overtired” if I was stumbling like that.  Garalen said nothing, but ran up and swapped out the books for me.  She said she just grabbed some at random.

I came home in the afternoon and mediated some minor disputes, reviewed some requests for particular assignments and days, and got my first requisitions request.  Cara wants a kitten.  I'll think about it.

So that’s that.  I did nothing today.  They didn’t even let me out to fat girl yoga.  And Ethelathe was pleased as punch about it.  Hopefully everyone’s panties will be untwisted by tomorrow.

Good night, my sweet.  I hope you had more fun than I did today.

 


	53. Day 45, Drakonis 16, 9:41 Dragon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everything goes wrong. Josie fixed the pay, everything goes wrong, Chrissy uses her connections to get the job done, and Solas is angry dude.

Day 45, Drakonis 16, 9:41 Dragon:

Anyway, PAYDAY!  I write that like it was a good thing, but it was more a scary thing.  There are a lot of people angry now.  It permeates the air, even here at Ethelathe. 

I’ll start at the beginning. A door-shaped section of what appeared to be golden calcite had appeared at ground level in my sphere last night.  It wasn't a door, just a hint of where I could place one.  I think. The stone is for overcoming fear and enhancing trust. It was very tempting.  “Don’t be scared, come out and play, I’ll protect you.”  It’s a very appealing message.  However, I wasn't quite ready.  I limned the “doorway” in amethyst, and narrowed the bands of amethyst around the bands of Lapis and Agate.  I was fairly certain it was Solas, but how would he react if he figured out I knew all about him?  He has a large ruthless streak, after all.

Josie had set up like she said, so some of the elves of Ethelathe went up for the breakfast shift.  They were paid, as expected, but they were paid more than they expected.  In a few cases, a lot more.  Feren’s pay doubled.  Philomena and Marta got half again as much.  This was the case for everyone.  Josie also mentioned something to them about back pay, but I don’t know exactly what was said.

A problem arose almost right away.  A maid in the chantry happened to notice how much Davhalla was being paid.  Davhalla works as a maid for the visiting nobles. The chantry maid became upset that a “stupid knife-ear” was being paid as much as she was, and shoved Davhalla into a wall. 

I really wish the maid had just said something to Josie.  Or Leliana.  Or anyone but Threnn, really.  The whisper campaign against us started up really quick.  Nobody said “They’re being paid just as much as us.”  They all said “They’re being paid too much.”  Someone, probably Threnn, mentioned that we had our own tents, and the rumors implied that we weren’t sharing.  By midmorning, the little problems started.  Again humans started shoving elves out of the way instead of taking a step to the left or right like civilized people. 

I was home doing school and paperwork, and didn’t find out until almost lunch.  That recruit that walks people home at night, Niles, came running up to Ethelathe cottage and asked to speak to me in private.  He told me that there was some trouble in town, and I needed to come.  He called me “my lady” three times.  Garalen and Elias weren’t around, because I was going to be home.  Eadras was out working.  The boys were home, but we were alone. 

Niles and I took the boys up to Harritt.  He agreed to watch them, and anyone else I sent.  He’s a brilliant man, and understood immediately what was going on.  He “needed a few more helpers today, anyway.”  He grabbed me in a hug, and told me to be careful.  Niles seemed quite startled that I let Harritt just grab me like that.  The soldier looked like he was about to interfere when Harritt released me.  Harritt’s gruff, like Adan, but he’s sweet.  His thread always shines firm.

I realized that, and then figured I’d get a good idea of where I need to go if I opened up.  I hate doing that in town, but it would be the quickest way to get information.  I opened my SELF and LOOKED at the network of threads that had grown up between me and mine.  Some brighter, some dimmer, a few barely there and very tenuous.  I ran my metaphorical fingers over the threads, plucking them.  I was looking for discord, and I found it.

Why is it when humans are mad at a group of people, they attack the women and children?  Up behind the cottage where the healers sleep, one of mine was crying.  She wasn’t one that slept at Ethelathe.  Someone had held her down and sheared her hair on half her head.  She wasn’t actually injured, bar some minor bruises, but it was a humiliating thing to do.  I’d been concerned, but now I was angry. 

I was already open, as it were, so I breathed in the ice and itch around me, and pushed it where I wanted it.  If they were going to use it to harm, I was going to use it to undo that harm.  I told her hair to GROW.  And it did.  All of it, to be sure, but the shorter side was now down to her shoulders and the longer mid-back.  It could be fixed.  She looked a little woozy, so I told Niles to take her to Harritt.  He tried to argue with me, but I wasn’t having any of it.  I told him curtly to catch up with me, and moved on.

No one was out and out attacked.  It was mudballs flung at people’s backs.  Another case of shorn hair.  Pushes, shoves, pinches to the backside.  Daniel was called an “elf-lover” and smacked by a human child-minder.  I claimed him.  They can whistle to get him back.  MINE.  I asked Seggrit to deliver Daniel to Harritt as well.  He agreed, and off they went.

I moved where I was needed, restoring hurts and another head of hair, cleaning mud and in one case shit, and making my way to the Chantry.  I think I actually healed a few people.  I’m not sure, since I was a little pissed off, and was just thinking “undo THAT”.  I know I magically cleaned at least one (she was hit with nug shit).  I went where the threads pulled me.  Probably a dozen incidents or so.

When I got to where Varric usually stands, he took one look at me and backed up.  Not sure what he saw, but he got out of my way.  Interestingly, no one had problems around the tavern or around the mess tent.  The sewing area was fine, too.  One girl was pushed into the hot springs in the bath house, but she was uninjured, just scared.  Each person I came across who had issues, I sent to Harritt.

I got to the chantry and flung the doors open.  I walked right in, marching straight up to Josie’s door, which was open.  I leaned my head in, and she caught sight of me.  Apparently I looked a fright, because she gasped and asked if I was hurt before I could say anything.  She came up quickly and touched my hair, saying “oh my goodness”.  She tried to pull me into a chair, but I resisted.  I was still angry.  She pulled out a snowy handkerchief and rubbed it on my face.  It came away with blood and dirt and other less savory things.  I’d been hugging people and the things they were covered in got on me in small streaks here and there.

“Your people are hurting mine,” I said to her. “I’m asking for help.  I’m asking that someone help us.  Please help us.”

She kept saying “oh, dear”.  She seemed more upset about my appearance than anything else.  It was then I felt PAIN along one of the threads.  I think I gasped or something, because she stopped dabbing at me, and I took the opportunity to run out. 

Marta was over by the privy, laying in the mud.  She’d been shanked in the side.  It looked like she’d been gotten in the ribs, not the gut, thank God.  I wouldn’t want to see a gut wound in these conditions.  As it was, she wasn’t breathing well.  There were bloody bubbles on her side.  Her lung had been punctured.  I heard Josie call for a healer.  She must have followed me. 

I was holding pressure on the wound and brushing the mud off Marta’s face and telling her she’d be okay when Celia from the healer tents showed up.  The one who would have gleefully reported my death.  The one who looked PLEASED to be there right then.  I could feel the glee radiating off of her.  There was no way that I was letting that bitch near Marta.  I know I said something about not trusting that healer with a snake, much less one of mine.  I wasn’t thinking straight, I think.  Too much input from the threads, too much pain from Marta.  The only thing I could remember about healing magic was from the novel “Touch of Power”, so I did that.  I absorbed Marta’s injury to myself, healing her and ow ow ow at me. 

I couldn’t breathe, I wasn’t safe, and I was suddenly in huge amounts of pain.  I needed something between them and us.  I didn’t do it on purpose, but a shimmering something appeared between THEM and US.  All of us.  Everyone whose thread connected to me experienced the same thing.  Almost a third of Haven was covered in what I know now was a disjointed barrier. I’d only meant to put up something to keep Celia from getting to Marta and me.

It has since been explained to me that because at that time I wasn’t entirely separate from those I considered mine, it went up around everyone.  The only good thing is that barriers aren’t actually visible to people not looking with mage-sight.  My people knew something happened, but not exactly what, and those not my people didn’t see anything at all.  Except Celia and Solas and maybe the other mages.

I do remember people trying to get to me.  My people were startled, especially the human ones.  Marta was frantic, because I was bleeding rather heavily all of a sudden, and she was basically fine.  It was like all the barriers were one barrier, because they combined when one of us neared another.  Apparently I’d claimed Varric, because he was able to get in to me.  A few others of mine, too.  Our “bubble” just combined and got bigger.  Eadras’ face came into my vision, and he said something I didn’t catch.  He shook me, making my head swim, and told me to drop the barrier.  I released the shielding, and my connection to everyone.  That’s about all I remember clearly before thinking “Eadras is going to be so mad at me”.  Because Oh My God, have you ever been stabbed in the ribs?  That shit HURTS.  Everything else was spotty and blurry, because I wasn’t tracking well, because DUH.  Stabby to the chest.

Making matters worse, guess who showed up again about that point?  Inquisibabe and his people.  And The Iron Bull and his chargers.  I missed most of it, obviously, but it was a big kerfluffle, with people demanding answers and people shouting back and forth.  I heard Cullen’s roar.  Eadras did what he could.  He made it clear to Inquisibabe that I was still bleeding and so on, so Inquisibutt delegated a certain hobo elf to tend to me. 

Then there were more arguments, and something soothing flowed over me.  I didn’t hurt as bad but I still wasn’t really tracking.  Soon after, I was moving, carried through Haven yet again.  At least I wasn’t entirely unconscious this time.  I was set on something soft, and I felt a finger touch my forehead while a melodic voice whispered “sleep”.  I didn’t have a choice.

In my little fade space, the amethyst for patience was gone.  There was a sharp rap against the door.  I knew for sure who it was now.  I removed the door, and Sexy Hobo Elf was standing there, looking angry. His eyes were practically glowing he was so pissed.  The only time I’d seen him this agitated in game was on the one playthrough where my inquisitor drank from the well.  He gave me a lengthy lecture about using magic I didn’t understand and playing with energies I didn’t understand. 

Apparently I’m NOT ALLOWED to take other people’s injuries, and I’m NOT SUPPOSED to spin connective web like I have, and group barriers are FAR BEYOND me and WHERE did I learn to do that and WHAT was I thinking and so on.  He hadn’t even come in.  He’d just stood there yelling at me, pacing in front of the doorway.  Everything I’ve done so far magically is incredibly wrong and not the way things are done and ripples in the fade and I should be old enough to know better and blahblahblah mixed with incomprehensible what I assume was elven.

I crossed my arms.  I’d had enough, and he hadn’t come in.  So, I just said, “Oh dear, and I wonder why I avoided you for so long.  I should never have worried that you’d take one look at me and horribly disapprove or criticize or anything.”  His rant stopped mid-incomprehensible babble.  He opened his mouth, and I put the door back.  I turned the whole sphere Dalmatian Jasper, protection from nightmares. 

I sat down.  I knew he’d do something, but I didn’t know what.  I half expected him to shatter my sphere.  Instead, another door appeared, of Rhodonite.  Acceptance, requesting forgiveness, bringing peace to troubled relationships.  Another knock.  I knew I couldn’t avoid him forever.  I removed the door again.  My butt stayed right where I was.  I hurt, even here.

“May I come in, Lady Chrysopal?” he asked.

“It’s just Chrissy.  I’m not a noblewoman.  Feel free.  Within reason.”

He strode inside.  He was still upset, but he held himself under control.  “And I am Solas.  You play with things that should only be touched after years of study.”

“How do you know I don’t have years of study?”

“Because what you do, it’s not the way things are done!” he retorted.

“It seems to work,” I shrugged.  “Perhaps some people are too close-minded.”

He stared at me.  “Enough.  Your body is damaged, your magic… well, your magic is not as depleted as I would expect for someone throwing barriers about half of haven.”

“One hundred and eight people is not half of Haven.”  I knew how many were mine.  I didn’t even have to count.  I just knew.  At least he was distracted heavily by my actions and not asking the hard questions.  Maybe I could manage him after all.  Keep doing things “wrong” and he’ll focus on that. 

“I cannot heal your injury.  Not fully.”  This guy changes subjects with no notice at all.  Not even a decent segue. 

“My potions don’t work?” I asked.

“No, your potions don’t work.  Your injury isn’t yours.  Your spirit doesn’t recognize that it is truly there, and therefore your body has to work on its own to heal it.”

“So the elfroot potions really do work because a person is drinking the spirits of the elfroot,” I mused.  “That means that the…  Never mind.”  I stopped.

He had an arrested look on his face.  “What do you mean?  Where did you learn something like that?”

“It’s obvious, isn’t it?  I watched Adan.  He used his spirit to squeeze the spirit of the plant out as he used his physical hands to squeeze the juice out.  He wasn’t actually very effective at it.  I just made sure I squeezed a bit better, to get as much as possible out of every root.  The rest seems more ritual than anything else.  Steeping for however many days, exposing to the light of a full moon for one night, or a half moon for two nights, etc.  Ritual has its place, primarily in enhancement, but I was in a hurry.”  I shrugged again, leaning back against a log I imagined into place.  “It makes sense that one would need both physical and spirit portions of the herb in order to heal the divided self.  It works.  Instead of cups, we’re using ounces at Ethelathe.”

Oops, I think I surprised him.  “Divided self?  And you learned to make potions here, from Adan?  Who are you?” he asked.  I returned the question back to him.  “I’m an elven apostate mage, working with the inquisition to heal the breach in the sky.  Isn’t that obvious, as well?” He practically sneered it.  Oaf.

“Ah,” I said.  “In that case, I’m also an elven apostate, apparently, working to protect my people from the predation of others.  Obviously.”  I may have been a bit snarky in return.  I wonder if he realized how much we were both hiding.

“Your people, including dwarves and humans?”

“Just mine.  People I like.  People I feel the need to protect.  My people.  As some might say, ‘people people’.”  I looked at him, though it’s much easier to talk if I’m not looking at scary dude.  His eyes were still almost glowy.  Bet he doesn’t realize his eyes are that glowy when he’s pissed off.  “How hurt am I, truly?”  I can change the subject abruptly, too.

“I was able to force the flesh to close.  It’s delicate, and I’m having to hold it together.  We may have to use stitches, but lung tissue doesn’t stitch well.  Your lung is extremely bruised, as well.  You’re still bleeding from your side.  It was a near thing, da’len.”

“I am not a child.  And if it was a near thing for me, with healers standing right there, then I’m doubly glad Marta is unhurt.”

“She is sore, but fully healed.  I would have been able to heal her, Chrissy.  Unlike your injuries, potions and magic would have worked.”

“She wouldn’t have lived that long.  I knew she was dying.”

“You don’t know that.”

I glanced at him again.  “Don’t I?  Don’t presume to decide what I do and do not know, Solas.  I am connected to her.  To them.  I knew.”

“That’s what I mean!  That’s why your barrier went everywhere. It was supremely foolish to tie yourself to..” He got no further.

I stood.  “Excuse me, I’ve received my lecture, what I could understand of it.  I don’t need another.  Can I wake up now?”

“We _will_ talk more later,” he nearly growled. 

And I awoke.  He didn’t even say “wake up”.  And I lived to regret waking up.  I hurt. I think he let me wake up as a punishment, instead of at my request.  Someone had smoothed elfroot salve on my side, so it wasn’t as bad as it might be, but OW.  I was bound up in swathes of cloth.  Looking at my arms, I had a few bruises.  I was still filthy.  I was in my bed, with the curtains wide open.  Solas was sitting in a chair next to the bed, glowering.  Eadras was in the other, at my feet.  Marta was hovering.  Garalen and Elias were pacing.  Andrew had shown up, and he was watching Egghead carefully. 

I could hear Daniel and the Tweedles arguing about the bunkbeds.  I tried to speak, calling the boys, and couldn’t get enough breath to be heard above a whisper.  I looked at Eadras.  “Don’t let them take Daniel,” I pleaded almost silently.  Eadras sat there, arms crossed.  “You, da’len, are grounded.”  My mouth fell open.  “No arguments.  You’ve given my white hair white hair.  You are going to lay there and heal, and if you try to so much as lift a pinky, I’ll spank you.  We had two days of you not being scary.  TWO DAYS!  We’ll keep the boys safe, we’ll keep everyone safe, even you.  Even if I have to SIT ON YOU.”  He actually bellowed some of that.  I’d never heard Eadras raise his voice before.

I knew it would frustrate them, but I needed to lighten their mood, and I’m a bitch, so I asked, in a whisper, if we could delay the bonfire a few days.  That got them.  Garalen burst into laughter.  Elias kept stuttering “You, you, you”.  Eadras shook his head and sighed. 

Andrew started cursing.  He spun and pointed at me.  “Your drive is going to get you killed.  Get with the program, Chrissy.  You can’t do it all by yourself.”  He shook my foot gently.  “You have to learn, as I had to learn.  Let people help you.  Spread it out, quit rushing like a damn yank, okay? Remember what they did to Martin Luther King.”  Solas caught that.  Damn it.  He did that head tilt/narrowed eyes thing.

Marta shooed everyone but Solas out.  Apparently he was in her good books. I asked her if anyone else was hurt.  She told me that I’d made sure that everyone was okay.  She looked at me.  “Did you really regrow Hannah’s hair?  She said you just looked her in the eyes and her hair grew back.”

I nodded.  “They’d done it to humiliate her,” I whispered.  “Not allowed.”  It was hard to get air to breathe.  “Drink potion,” I told her, pointing at her. 

She pointed at Solas.  “He had me drink one of his, and it wasn’t very effective, so I wouldn’t take his second one and drank one of yours.  HE said I should have needed more, plus recovery time, but yours did the job,” she said, smugly.  I would have laughed, if I could have, at the annoyed look on his face. 

She kicked him out temporarily, and cleaned me up.  I tried to help, but I wasn’t very effective.  My side was leaking, and the stain spread when I tried to lift my left arm or twist at all.  I hate being helpless.  Marta muttered about maybe needing to change the bandage, but said she’d defer to the healers.  Leorah brought in a nightgown and gently stuffed me in it.  That was when I realized I’d been having conversations with Eadras and Marta and everyone without a shirt on.  I was covered by bandages, but still.

Eventually I was left alone, and I was able to get my journal without too much trouble and write this stuff down.  I seem to just jump from the frying pan into the fire, don’t I?  I certainly didn’t expect to end up hurt.  And having a whole spirit and a hurt body isn’t very comfortable. And Inquisibabe and Varric and Josie are probably mad at me.  And Solas is still an ass, but now I owe him, and he’s mad at me.  I'm not sure how safe Ethelathe and my people are.  And they're unhappy. That’s not a comfortable feeling.

REALLY hoping that I go home when Sam closes the breach. Goodnight, baby.       

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only one update today, probably, but it's a big one.
> 
> Edited because the spelling fairy hates me.


	54. Day 46, Drakonis 17, 9:41 Dragon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Had there been hope today would be better?

Day 46, Drakonis 17, 9:41 Dragon:

He’s like a damn vampire.  Once you invite him in, he can come and go as he pleases.  THREE TIMES last night I had to stop a dream mid-fun because he popped in.  First time I was driving down highway 95 in Florida, down in Daytona.  He popped in, and I had to disappear everything double quick. 

“What was that contraption, Da’asha?” 

“Don’t you ever knock?  And Da’asha is hardly better than Cuddles.”

“You’re evading the question.”

“Indeed.”  And I waited for him to leave.  I can be as evasive as I want in my own head, thank you.

The second and third times, I was more circumspect.  I was playing with my daughter once, and once again blanked everything.  Nothing overly “modern” or unusual.  The third I was listening to my iPod, and I don’t think he even noticed the ear buds.  Scenery is fairly general, even when the plants are slightly different.  After the third time, I woke myself up.  No use trying to sleep around him until I can encapsulate my piece of the fade again.  He’s done something, so my door stays open. Grrr.  Yes, I tried to shut it.  That’s probably why he was smirking at me the third time he invaded.

It was probably an hour or two predawn.  Stupid me tried to sit up.  I couldn’t manage it on my own, damn it.  I hurt more today than yesterday.  I must have made a noise, because Marta, who was on a bedroll next to my bed, got up to help me sit.  Baldy pulled back the curtain.  He’s still obviously angry.  I don’t know why. I’ve not done anything to him.

“She should be laying down,” he said to Marta.

Marta opened her mouth to respond, but I interrupted.  “SHE (breath) has to PEE (breath), and I’m not (breath) doing it laying (breath) down.”  Solas just turned around and dropped the curtain as he left. 

I’ve been in hospitals enough to know that after any surgery, they try to get you up and walking as soon as possible.  Even heart transplant patients are generally up and walking within a day.  So I had Marta help me up.  Her choices were she help me or I do it without help, I admit.  I’m not peeing in my room, even in a chamber pot.  Ewww.  Lots of Nope there.

I was better off than a heart transplant patient, but it still hurt like hell to walk the maybe 100 feet to our privy.  I rested there for a while before opening the door to make my way back.  When I did, it wasn’t Marta waiting for me.  It was Solas.  The damn man won’t leave me alone.  He started to bend toward me and I took a painful step back.  I'm not sure if he was going to pick me up or push me.  Solas took a deep breath and held out his arm.  That, I took.  As I made my way very slowly back to my bed, Solas told me I was the most infuriating woman he’d met in a long time.

“What did (breath) I ever do to you?” I rasped.

“Excuse me?”

“I understand (breath) Ethelathe (breath) being upset.”  I had to stop to talk, and I was leaning on him far more than I’d prefer.  “What did (breath) I do to you? (breath)”

“It is not anything you have done to me that has me upset, Da’asha.”

“Evasive,” was all I could really get out.

“Indeed” was his infuriating response. He started me walking again, and gently helped me back into bed under Marta’s watchful eye.  My sleep was dreamless after that.

I woke up very late.  The sun was full in the sky.  People were coming and going.  I could hear them.  And I was so damn itchy.  Leorah was watching me when I woke.  I asked her to help me up.  The itching got worse over the course of the afternoon until I couldn’t stand it.  I begged Eadras to let me go to my nook.  I must have looked pitiful enough, and they knew how much better I’d been last time.  He wrapped me up in fur while we waited for Andrew.

When Andrew arrived, he glowered at me for a few moments.  As he lifted me up, he stated baldly “Chrissy, if you ever take damage for someone else again, I don’t know what I’ll do.”

I smiled at him.  Then a melodic, annoying voice chimed in.  “Do you not have one elven woman already?  Do you really need two?”

I turned my head to look at him.  “Foolish (breath) Hahren.  You look (breath) but you do not (breath) see.”  I looked back at Andrew.  “Beam me up (breath) Scotty.”  Andrew laughed, and headed out, Garalen close on our heels.  And of course Hobo Elf followed.

Andrew set me in my spot.  “How much space do you need?” asked Garalen.

“50 feet.  (breath)”  I glared at Solas.  “He goes.  Andrew.  Please.”  I didn’t wait to see them go.  I closed my eyes and breathed, gently, the clean everything out there.  The itchiness began clearing almost right away.

I was just starting to feel a bit better when I was pulled out of meditation by a surprised “What are you doing?”

I opened my eyes.  Solas hadn’t left.  “Andrew.  Remember board?”

He looked at Garalen with a smile.  She blushed.  “Yep.  I’m going to leave the top open.  A column instead of a globe.  I’ve been practicing.”  I nodded.

I went back to my meditation, clearing my chakras, as it were.  Then I decided to take a look at my ‘whole spirit/injured body’ thing.  That didn’t make sense to me.  I LOOKED at me instead of looking out.  I heard arguing, but I tuned it out.  I knew from dissecting a pig in biology what a lung was supposed to look like.  I’d also studied it in texbooks in college.  My lung had a slit in it.  Not a gaping hole like I’d been expecting.  Possibly Solas’ work.  The pieces were moving against each other as I breathed, leaking tiny bits of air into places it wasn’t supposed to be.  That was increasing the bruising and difficulty breathing. 

I breathed in the biggest breath I comfortably could, pulling as much of the glowy dust into my lung as I could manage.  I figured this had to be done carefully, so I took one mote at a time, caressing the wound in my lung with it and encouraging the cells to divide.  I’m not sure how long I took, but I could see the individual cells replicating.  See, I didn’t think my spirit and body were separate.  I hadn’t been here when reality had been split in two.  Andrew, Daniel, and I looked different in mage sight from everyone except perhaps Solas, and I know that he’s ancient.  I was betting that I was a whole individual, not separated like he'd assumed.

I waved a hand at Andrew, and he dropped whatever it was.  I was breathing far easier.  I wasn’t in as much pain.  The hole in my side was still there, because I don’t know near as much about the interplay of blood and veins and stuff in the skin.  I hadn’t touched the bruising.  But I was no longer leaking air into inappropriate places.  I knew I could handle a single-cell thick membrane of contiguous tissue. 

Andrew went to pick me up, but Solas stopped him.  “Let me make sure she has not damaged something before you move her.”

“I’m better, Solas.  I can’t heal it, I don’t have the knowledge, but I’m better.  I always come here when I need to breathe.”  I was still panting a little bit, but I wasn’t gasping every few syllables like I had been.  He was surprised at how well I was speaking, but I still felt the wash of what I can only describe as “blue” magic go over me.  He got a faraway look in his eye, and then I felt something PUSH and then PULL at my threads to my people.  Gently, I admit, but I still got angry.  “MINE!” was all I said, and I said it forcefully enough I was out of breath after. 

He looked startled.  “You felt that.”

“Don’t mess with my family.”  Damn it, I was back to almost whispering.

“I did not.  I merely looked.”

“You TOUCHED.”

“Ir ablelas, Da’asha,” Solas said, bowing his head slightly.  I held up a hand to Andrew, and he gently helped me to my feet.  “You cannot walk so far,” Solas protested.  He pulled some leaves or blades of grass or something from my hair and held one up to his nose for a moment.  “You are still injured.  Do not be stubborn.  The Herald was quite insistent…”

I rolled my eyes at him.  Garalen helped me brush off the groundcover that had clung to me, rewrapped me in the furs, and held me steady as Andrew picked me up.  They got why I had not just reached up to be collected.

When I got back to my bed, I found Cook had brought one of her meat pies personally, and was waiting for me.  I love her meat pies.  She chatted nonstop at me, giving me all the news, while helping me break up the chunks so I could get them on my fork.  Halfway through the pie, she started feeding me.  Damn, I was weak as a kitten.  I didn’t even protest.

After she left, I took a nap.  I was awakened by Philomena later.  The Inquisibabe had come for a visit.  He told me I really knew how to make a guy feel needed.  I smiled.  He proceeded to tell me all about the kerfluffle I missed.  They said I looked like a cross between a wild Dalish and a Rivaini Seer, with hair everywhere and steely eyes, moving purposefully to every location an elf was touched.  Harritt had kept everyone for the rest of the day, and Leliana had spoken to most of them.  Apparently, most regular people also missed the fact that Marta was the one originally injured.  Everyone was saying someone had stabbed me. 

I tried to make a joke of it.  “That’s only four assassination attempts in the last month.  You humans are kind of lazy.”  He looked at me and asked WAY too softly what I meant.  “Nothing.  I’m sorry.  It wasn’t funny.”

He looked at Solas.  “Did you know about this?”

Solas was frowning.  “I did not.”

“It’s nothing.  Really.  It’s not a big deal.”

“Chrissy, if you’re the subject of assassination attempts, we need to know,” Inquisibutt said sternly.

“I’m not sure I am…”

At that point, Leorah jumped in.  “Well, we are.  Someone is trying to take her from us and we want it to stop.  It started with the attack on Tanya on the 21rst of Guardian.  Andrew and Garalen scared off three groups trying to get in that night, knives out.  Then Gethon stopped someone from throwing a knife at her on the 23rd of Guardian when she was in the stables.  Templars pulled their attempt on the 1rst, which was mighty damn scary.  We got them back for that.  And this one, this isn’t even aimed at her, but someone is trying to kill us, and she stopped it.  She can’t even hold a butter knife aggressively and she’s done more to protect us than anyone else.”  Inquisibabe and Solas glowered at each other and the room in general. 

“I am perfectly capable of holding a butter knife aggressively!” I was hoping to break the tension, but it failed.

Leorah pointed at me.  “You won’t even wield aggressive magic.”  I shut my mouth and looked at my hands in my lap.  How could I explain that I didn’t even know how?

The Herald looked around at a sea of unhappy elven faces.  “How come nobody told me this?” he said, at the same time as Solas said "Templars?"

I felt another wash of energy over me.  It slid gently over the same place that had hurt when the Templars had done what they did.

“We wrote to you, and had to leave the letters with that bitch Threnn. Eadras tried to get in to see the spymaster and was refused.  The Ambassador was always with some noble or other, and I was a scullery maid at the time.  I tried to tell Mother Giselle, but she told me the Maker would protect us.  Should we write it in fire on the practice field?”  Leorah was MAD.

I tried to peacemake again.  “I’m fine, really.”

The Herald looked at me.  “She says, as she holds her side and can barely breathe because someone STABBED her.”

“Nobody stabbed me.  They stabbed Marta.” 

“Who has brown hair and blue eyes, just like you,” he snarled.  Uh, what can one say to that?  I hadn’t even considered that.  Apparently Andrew, Garalen, and Leorah had, because they’d not seemed surprised.

Garalen piped up with “That’s why we had either me or Elias trailing her.  She overdoes it.  A lot.  And doesn’t always pay attention to her surroundings.  Yesterday, she was supposed to be safely at home with the kids.”

Elias popped his head around the corner.  “She never says NO.  Anything anyone asks her to help with, there she goes.”

“I’m hurt.  You can’t gang up on me like this.”

The Herald leaned down and kissed my forehead.  “You get better.  We’re going to fix this.”

Well, shit.

Solas looked at me and said “I will speak to you later.  Do not attempt to lock me out.”

Double shit.

Praying for dreamless sleep, baby girl.  Hope your day went better than mine.  At least they’re still letting me write.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so here's another long-ish one. I hope you don't mind. :)


	55. Day 47, Drakonis 18, 9:41 Dragon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chrissy learns that she could have been healed immediately after all. And Hobo Elf's a rat bastard. And Feren's got a girlfriend!

Day 47, Drakonis 18, 9:41 Dragon:

“Don’t try to keep me out.”  Hah.  I’m a contrary bitch.  Tell me not to do something, I’m going to try.  And apparently, succeed.  I had to make my playhouse smaller, but I put a new sphere inside the old one.  It’s about two-thirds the size.  I made the whole thing out of Jet, the strongest protection stone for people experiencing fear, stress, and anxiety.  Let him think I’m terrified of him.  I’ve got his number now.  I spent my dreams normally, the usual jumbled reality.  No forcing it to be one way or another, and no rogue dreamers.  Bliss.

I woke to a little less pain, but it still hurts like hell.  More than the first day, less than day two, but OW.  I really wish I had some really good anatomy books.  I can’t FIX it if I don’t UNDERSTAND it.  Nearbeering is easy, evaporate the alcohol, kill the yeast if it’s still in there.  The body is too complicated.  I can’t even effectively skin a nug.

Eadras and the boys all helped me to the privy.  Mostly Eadras, with the boys hovering and worrying.  By the time I got out, pretending-not-to-be-angry scary dude was back, standing outside the damn privy again.  Eadras, at least, hadn’t abandoned me like Marta did.  Solas moved toward me, and I stepped back like before.  He didn’t stop.  He hefted me and said, “I am not in the mood to indulge your irrational fears or your contumacious refusals.”  He must have practiced that phrase all night.  Probably thinks I won’t understand the big words.  He could have just used “willfully disobedient”.

“It’s important to walk to keep the lungs clear and prevent infection.”  I looked pointedly away.  “And I don’t recognize you as having any authority over me.”  He was stronger, more muscular than I had expected out of an egghead mage.  Most mages are a bit soft and out of shape.  Spending one’s time on one’s rear with one’s head in a book isn’t very athletic, after all.

He didn’t speak until he’d deposited me back in bed.  “I will ensure there is no infection.  The Herald wants you well.”  It sounded like it hurt him to say that evenly.  He and Garalen replaced my bandages, discussing my wound and care like I wasn’t even there.  It was infuriating. 

“I have to go into Haven today,” I stated, when they’d finished.  Garalen asked why at the same time the asshole said no.  I addressed her first.  “They’re scared, and they need to see me.  I can’t handle them all traipsing through my space again.”  To him, I said, “You are not my jailor, and I refuse to be put in a cage.”  Back to her, I tried a little logic.  “You could take me to the tavern for lunch.  A good meal would help me, and it would ease people’s minds.  Cook would be delighted to make me something nourishing, and the kitchens and scullery will stop aching.  I’ll sit, and I’ll tell you when I am tired.  I’ll even take a nap this afternoon without griping.  I can’t let them think they can dispose of me so easily.”  She didn’t look convinced.  “Please, Gara.  I’ll let you ring me with guards, but I have to be seen.” 

Smart hobo elf kept his mouth shut.  Eadras came around the wall.  “I’ll agree to this,” he said.  “But you will stay in the blankets.  You will follow directions and do as you are told.  Am I clear, da’len?”  I nodded.  They knew I was right.  The tension and anger had to be reduced. 

I rested the morning under the watchful eyes of my boys.  They were very worried.  They were eager to fetch and carry and do anything, so I swapped pillows more often than was wise.  I also got them to sneak in my work papers.  I didn’t do more than organize my requests into piles, really.  Dee and Dum were creating the piles, and Daniel was the runner. 

Close to lunchtime, Hobo Elf reappeared, but thank God so did Feren.  I held my good arm up to the smith and he smiled, hugging me very gently.  “I’ve been told you get to go to the tavern for lunch.  I claimed the privilege of carrying you there.”  Hobo Elf looked unhappy at that.

I smiled at him.  “I could walk, you know.”

He smiled back.  “I know full well you’d force yourself to walk all the way there.”  He touched his finger to my nose.  “But, you don’t have to, because I am here.  I get to have lunch with my favorite hahren and talk about a shy young miss named Isa.”

“I’m not old,” I protested, as he lifted me, covers and all.  Then what he said sunk in.  “You and Isa?  Really?”

“See how easy it is to distract you?  Seggrit and Harritt are coming to lunch, too.  As well as Adan.  We’re actually going to take over the mess instead of the tavern.” He headed to the front of my little area, but Solas still hadn’t moved.  “Excuse me, Ser Solas,” said Feren.  Solas moved to the side, barely leaving enough room.  His face was the perfect picture of composure.  Hopefully inquisibabe will be leaving to fetch Blackwall and maybe the mages soon.  And taking Solas with him.

I wouldn’t admit it out loud, but I was exhausted after lunch.  There were way too many people in uniforms around, for one.  I didn’t participate in much conversation.  Seems like most of my people stopped by for at least a moment for “eyes on” time.  I was ready for a nap by the time it was over.  Cook had made some really good sausage bread, though.  With actual gravy.  More gravy than sausage, but that’s okay.  I’m not all that hungry.  I asked Feren to finish it so that I wouldn’t send a half-full bowl back to Cook.

Harritt carried me back.  I fell asleep on the way.

Leorah woke me up for a bowl of soup for dinner.   She changed my bandages, too.  I’m a very pretty rainbow of purple, blue, green, brown, and yellow.  She’d just finished when Inquisibabe showed up with Elf in tow.  Herald boy jabbered about inconsequentials for about fifteen minutes, and then said they were looking into “my situation”.  Joy.  He also wanted Solas to take another look at my side.  “The sooner we get you in training, the better.”  Training?  What training?  He didn’t elaborate.

He bid his adieus and left Solas behind.  I felt that “blue” magic wash over me again, healing me just a little bit, despite his claim that he couldn’t do that.  He’s keeping me injured when he could have fixed this!  This time, something was different in his magic.  I waited until he’d left and LOOKED at what he did.  That rat bastard tied a line into my network!  He’d hooked a tether right into my side.  I carefully checked the rest of my family.  They were better.  Being seen had relieved a lot of minds. 

I then turned my attention to the tether he’d wrapped around my rib.  It was the same stuff, but it wasn’t done the way my network is.  My tethers are like two people shaking hands.  A mutual association, easily severed by other side, starting tenuous and increasing in strength as association and trust improve.  It's a connection formed naturally, not forced.  This thing.  This was like grabbing someone’s arm and not letting go.  I very carefully prised at the edges, and discovered it was a complicated knot. 

Well, I knew what I was going to do all evening.  I carefully “squished” the connection, hoping that information wouldn’t flow.  Then I worked the knot.  It took me quite a while, but I got it loose.  I then pulled on the tether, and released it.  I really hope it snapped back like a whip.  Maybe it’ll hurt.  Not cool on his part at all.  I really hope that stung.  Forcing a connection like that where you can monitor someone's condition?  Without permission?  And that one did NOT go both ways. I am not some vallaslin-bearing supplicant from ancient times he can just do as he wishes with. I belong to ME.

I’m going to bed, and he’d better not bother me.  Goodnight kiddo.  Never, ever act like the Hobo Elf.


	56. Day 48, Drakonis 19, 9:41 Dragon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A new healer, and anger. Lots of tired, too.

Day 48, Drakonis 19, 9:41 Dragon:

Wishes do come true!  Inquisibabe headed off to Redcliffe today.  Looks like we may be fetching the mages after all.  I can piece my timeline back together!  And guess who he took with him!  He wanted “a different perspective on the mage rebellion”.  YES!

He came down just after first light to tell me he was leaving and taking my healer with him.  Oh, darn.  I am under strict orders to obey the healer who is taking over my care.  Haven is having issues, so I need to heal up.  He held my hand while he talked to me, and kissed me on the cheek before he left.  Weird.

One of Leliana’s people brought an older mage healer down midmorning.  Her face was familiar, but I didn’t really know her.  I felt that connection to her, so maybe she was one of the healers that was sort of mine.  One who tended me at the beginning, maybe?  The mage didn’t speak, but gently unwrapped me.  Looking at my side, she tsked.  “It looks like this is being held together with nothing more than magic stitches of some kind.  Is there a reason it wasn’t healed more fully?”

I’m a bit of a bitch, like I said.  “I don’t know, ma’am.  Something about keeping infection away was said, but I didn’t understand exactly what the man was talking about.”

“Well, there’s no infection that I can see, and healing this wound a bit would prevent any, I would think.”  HAH!  His cutesy little theory about my body not able to accept healing because it was different spirits and bodies was proven wrong rather quickly when I felt her magic bathe the wound.  It was cooling at first, and then OH MY GOD THAT HURTS.  My vision blurred, it hurt so bad.  “Better” was all she said, when she was done.  I hurt, still but not NEARLY as bad.  Looking at the wound, it looked angry and red, but it was sealed.  The bruising was worse, but that made sense, too.

“Let’s get you up, Miss Chrissy.”  She helped me to sit up, and then stand.  I was given firm instructions not to lift or carry anything for a month, no heavy exercise, plenty of walking and gentle stretching.  What a sweet lady!  I invited her to stay for tea, but she refused, saying she had to get back to her other patients.  She smiled at me as she took her leave.  It was uncomfortable to move, but I could do so.  If I couldn’t lift or anything, I was going to have to redo the schedule.  Again.  Damnit.

And Damn Solas, too.  He had been so sure that he couldn’t heal my body he hadn’t even tried until last night.  I’d place book on it.  He thinks he knows everything, that arrogant son of a bitch.  I want to know why he wanted to keep me trapped in my bed.

Anyway, Inquisibabe took Solas, Vivienne, and Cassandra with him.  Poor Varric is left behind again.  Sera and The Iron Bull, too.  I really need to make time to meet them.

I walked under my own steam out of my room, wrapped in a blanket, and politely asked Leorah if I could get some help dressing.  “You’re better!” she squealed, and then she hugged me.

“OW!” I gasped.

She apologized profusely and then helped me put on a dress I hadn’t seen before.  It was lovely but functional, in a pretty blue.  She also did my hair in that complicated braid again.  “I know you are going to feel the need to go out and about.  We understand that.  You can’t sit still to save your life.  However, remember what the healer said.  Take it easy.  And don’t get this dress dirty.”  I promised I would.  I was still very weak, after all.  I wouldn’t be able to do more than visit Josie and maybe Cook.  I needed to thank her.  I think she and Varric were the reasons nothing went wrong at the mess tent and the Tavern on the Payday from Hell.

I had an agenda, too.  I wanted to see what was on my board.  I wondered what Solas had left for me before the shit hit the fan, or if he’d added something after.  I had no doubt that he had written something.  Anyway, it was time to ease back into real life.  Carefully.  And letting my people watch over me.  They were quite anxious.

Elias and the boys all accompanied me to the tavern, where we had lunch.  Honestly, I needed the sit down before I continued up to the Chantry.  I asked Daniel to ask Varric to meet with me.  He came over, Sera following and belligerently asking what I wanted.  I told her that I thought it was Varric’s presence that had ensured no one hurt the common workers around here during the Payday from Hell, so I wanted to thank him.  Did she have a problem with that?

Her response?  “I heard about you giving the Templars the shits.  Good one, that.” And she walked off.  I didn’t bother to argue with her.  That hadn’t been me.

Varric looked at me.  “If you wanted to thank me, how come I wasn’t allowed near you the last few days?”  I must have looked convincingly surprised.  “Chuckles said you were too frail to have many visitors.”

“He wasn’t wrong, but only because no one was willing to actually do a healing or give me access to my potions, because he was in charge.  I’m better.  I had a different healer this morning, and she worked miracles.  I’m not all better, but I’m better.”

“I can see that.  You’re pale as a ghost, you’re breathy, and you look exhausted, but you’re upright.”

“You give the best compliments.”

“Would you rather I told you your eyes are like stars and sighed like a love-sick puppy?”

“I don’t know; would you mean it?”  I was flirting, I admit it.

“Probably not.  You really look like shit today.” At least he smiled at me when he said it.  No flirting with the dwarf.  Got it.

“Thank you, Varric, for looking out for me and mine.  I mean that.”

“Bianca’s the one that scared them, but she appreciates the thought, Cuddles.”

We moved to general chatting.  He actually did compliment my dress and my hairstyle.  I told him Leorah had created both.  I was feeling better for resting, so I told him I had to work my way up to the Chantry.  I needed to speak with Josie.  I didn’t even know if everyone got paid.

The board didn’t have anything written on it.  However, something veiled was hanging from it.  When I touched it, it unveiled.  It was a golden beryl wrapped in thin wire, hanging from a cord.  Beryl for honesty and regaining what is lost?  Don’t know what that ass is up to, but I took the stone.  It couldn’t have been meant for anyone else.  I still could be dealing with someone other than scary asshole, so I wrote “thank you” on the board.  If it’s changed tomorrow, I’ll start going off the two different people theory. 

Honestly, the conversation with stone thing is appealing.  It’s like the flower language used by the Victorians.  I don’t know enough about Thedasian flora to indulge in that with any confidence.  I’m surprised enough that crystal meanings are apparently similar.  You know, we have legends of Elves and Dwarves and Dragons.  Perhaps that’s based in more reality than we tend to believe.

Josie was sweet.  She immediately had me sit down, saying I look positively gray.  I’m not surprised.  I’m ready to go back to bed, and I still have that walk back.  She apologized for the Payday from Hell (she didn’t call it that), saying that she should have realized that something like that would happen when she just up and changed things around.  I told her that she had been doing what was right.  After noticing something that didn’t seem fair, she moved to fix it.  I told her the humans will get used to it, eventually, but we should probably work out some other strategy for paydays.  Another day.

I was done.  I tried to take my leave, but Josie bade me sit and spoke quietly to a messenger.  I didn’t argue.  A few minutes later, Cullen strode in.  I was too tired to deal with this.  He meandered on about patrols and such, making the streets safe for everyone, but I wasn’t tracking. At some point in the primarily one-sided conversation, he stopped mid-sentence.  “You’re too tired to have this conversation,” he said.  “We’ll discuss this another time.”

Elias helped me up, Josie rushing to my other side when I stumbled.  I hate feeling weak.  Cullen offered me his arm and said he’d walk me at least as far as Soldier’s Field.  I took it with the one not holding on to Elias.  The boys bounced around us.

Cullen’s arm is very sturdy.  He’s really tall, you know?  My eyes are even with his sternum.  If Varric’s right, and I’m five-one, Cullen’s at least six-two or six-three.  At least he doesn’t treat me like a sack of potatoes.  I apologized for being an inconvenience.  And for the whole problem on the sixteenth.  He told me to stop apologizing for things that weren’t my fault. According to him, Leliana’s calling me a catalyst, and I should stop worrying about it.  I stopped talking after that, because I had to concentrate on walking.

After we got out of Haven’s gates, Cullen stopped.  I assumed that he was done escorting me and went to let go.  Instead, he held my arm in place with his, and asked if my pride was satisfied, having inched my way through Haven slower than a turtle.  Elias laughed at me.  The boys laughed at me.  I huffed, and Cullen carried me the rest of the way home.  It was faster, I’ll admit.  Varric’s right.  I spend way too much time being carried.  I did see The Iron Bull in passing, as we went.  He’s HUGE.  Like three people huge.  Linebacker on steroids huge.  Yeah.  Worse is the way he looks at you, measuring.  Crap.  He’s going on the scary list with Leliana and Solas.

Anyway, Cullen put me down outside Ethelathe.  I thanked him and made my way inside on Elias’ arm.  The boys excitedly told everyone I’d played with Varric and the Ambassador and had been carried by Cullen.  I napped.  I ate.  I’m writing this down, and then I’m going back to sleep.  I’ll try being productive tomorrow.  Goodnight, Sweetie.  I miss you.


	57. Day 49, Drakonis 20, 9:41 Dragon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Getting back to normal, slowly. 11 days left, with all hope.

Day 49, Drakonis 20, 9:41 Dragon:

I figured scary dude would be too busy to mess with my dreams, so I dispelled the inner sphere and turned the outer sphere back to that beautiful lavenderine.  No doors.  I also made it larger.  Bigger is better, right?

The healer, Renee, came by in the morning to check on my healing.  I was all sorts of pretty colors, but everything was still healing well.  I was warned again to stick to walking and quiet activities.  No lifting, nothing exertive. Yes yes.  Got this.  I feel much stronger, but I thought the same thing yesterday and ended being sack-of-potatoed across Soldier’s Field.  I thanked her, of course.  She’s really nice.  She feels right, somehow, no LOOKING needed.  I told her she’s welcome here anytime.

I gave everybody a break and stayed home today.  I reworked the schedules some. I took myself off basically everything.  I’m about useless right now.  I’ll make it up to them later, if I'm still here.  I still have a few days of sewing later, but for at least a couple tendays, I’m useless.  Redoing the schedules took almost the whole day, and I’m not quite done.  I’ll have them finished tomorrow.  Then I can get to the mountain of other paperwork.

Tension still runs high.  I mediated two arguments that broke out over the stupidest stuff.  So stupid I don’t even remember what they were about. For one, I told the two guys that the person who chopped the most wood in an hour would win.  Firewood, stress reduction, community service, and physical activity, all in one.  The other I don’t even remember.  Eadras handles most of that stuff, but he dusts me off and props me up in front of people when he wants an “official” decision.

I did the morning hour of school today.  By the middle of the afternoon, I was not up to any more.  There was walking, doctor’s orders.  Eadras strolled me around our little alienage.  It’d actually been a while since I saw the tents.  There are 5 of them, now, and there’s only one space left empty.  That’s HALF of the elves of Haven sleeping here.  And a few humans.  They’ve made improvements, with a permanent firepit and benches.  I felt sort of bad I hadn’t been out there in a bit.  No more canoodling with bigwigs, and far more paying attention to what’s important.

When I apologized for not coming out back sooner, the residents looked confused.  Never mind.  I wouldn’t even be able to explain.  I feel like I failed at something, though.  I’m so tired, and I really just want to go home.

Logistics:

Medikits:  One for everybody.  Decent backlog, stored in the Chantry, out of the way, in a nondescript crate.  Not too heavy. Feren can lift it, or we can open it and hand stuff out as we flee.

Go bags:  Every person at Elthelathe except me has one, and the recent issues have reinforced my request for people to keep it ready.  2 days food included.  Actually, I probably have one.  I’d have to ask Leorah.

Next alcohol shipment: the 24th.  There were some complaints about the weakness of the alcohol recently, but the incidents of fighting have gone down drastically.  Sober people aren’t as stupid.  Bad news: The chargers brought alcohol.  WAGONS of alcohol.  They’re sharing, so they’ll have to import soon.  I’ll be ready then, hopefully, to nearbeer it.

Revised schedule: (I’m assuming the war table mission will be handled by raven, otherwise there’s going to be more travel.)

~~14 Herald leaves for Hinterlands~~  
~~20 Mother Giselle Arrives~~  
 ~~23 Herald back~~  
 ~~24 Day off~~  
 ~~25 Unnecessary day off.~~  
 ~~26-33 Val Royeaux~~  
 ~~34 Day off in Haven~~  
 ~~35 Extra day off in Haven~~  
 ~~36 Another day in Haven~~  
 ~~37 Leave for Storm Coast~~  
 ~~37-45 Storm coast~~  
 ~~45 Payday from hell~~  
 ~~46 Day off~~  
 ~~47 Day off, again~~  
 ~~48 Leave for Hinterlands~~  
48-55? Fetch mages in redcliffe? (Therinfall redoubt, 48-56)  
57? mages arrive (templar arrival date 61)  
58? Prep for breach (Templar 62)  
59? Seal the breach (Templar 63)

I’m off to bed.  Goodnight sweetheart.  It’s so nice to be back to normal-ish.  Hope with me that I’ll see you in 11 days or so.


	58. Day 50, Drakonis 21, 9:41 Dragon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Recovering, resting, and thinking

Day 50, Drakonis 21, 9:41 Dragon:

I actually left my sphere last night.  Just to take a look around.  In game, the fade is this horrible gray place, but when you’re there, it really depends.  Turns out our favorite asshole was right about one thing, at least.  If you expect something, truly expect it, then you get it here.  It’s like a holodeck plugged into your cerebellum, and every thought and belief gets incorporated.  When you relax and employ curiosity without expectations, things change.  A lot.  It’s like a mirror of the living world, to a great extent.  There is color, and vibrancy.  You can move around the horrible things, to a certain degree.  (Don’t go in the healer’s cottage while in the fade if you’re ever here.  Apparently someone really liked their blood magic there, and it sticks to everything.)

I keep looking for the veil, the barrier between, but I’m not finding it.  On earth I pictured it like Saran Wrap, at once stretchy and still strong, yet holes can be punched through with effort.  There's nothing like that here.  Once relaxed and calm, the fade is much like the real, glowy dust and all.  I’ve not addressed any residents, but they’re there, and they see me.  Emotions drift on scented breezes, and the living and the dead do what people have always done.  Continue.  I was cautious, though.  I returned to my sphere before I let go.

Renee came by this morning, and she said my lungs are healed, but my side isn’t. My restrictions remain.  I can move easier, though.  Enough that I pulled out Josie’s guitar for the first time in something like a week.  The Tweedles and Daniel were thrilled.  I gave them a break from letters and numbers, and we did music theory.  None of the grown-up students seemed to mind. 

Musical notation in Thedas is different from what I’m used to.  They still use the Ionian mode, but they put it on a different staff.  I’m teaching my way.  Thedas bards can suck it.  So we discussed notes and intervals, and earth-style notation, today.  Sharps, flats.  Nothing complicated like diminished or double sharp.  I didn’t call it earth-style.  I called it “the way I learned it.”  Yes, the songs of the Sound of Music made their appearance.  How can you teach music without Do Re Mi?

Regrettably, an hour of guitar playing was maybe overdoing it a bit.  I took a morning nap, to the giggles of my three boys.  I’m really going to miss them if and when I get home.  I got extra gentle cuddles from them before I rested.

I woke up for lunch, and had it at home.  Finished my job rescheduling.  I was good.  I sent someone to post it and give the copy to Josie.  I got through a little bit of my other correspondence.  It’s all local elf stuff or stuff from the advisors, but some stranger is writing me from Kirkwall of all places.  I don’t know anybody, much less someone from Kirkwall.  Looks like I’m going to go bother Varric.  Tomorrow.  I’ll bug him tomorrow.

I got in my walk.  Down to Soldier’s Field this time on Jailyn’s arm.  The men here are HOT.  They’re all muscle-bound and tan and stuff.  We spent a fair amount of time watching burly men sweating on each other, sitting on some piles of trebuchet makings.  Everything’s gathered, so it’s just assembly. 

As we headed home, I did a lot of thinking.  We’re close to the end our time at Haven, but everyone thinks we’re at the beginning.  The trebuchet on the way up to the bridge is already finished, and apparently the one near the abandoned mine is three quarters of the way done.  There’s such a feeling of excitement and anticipation.  I’m just getting more and more worried.  Will I stay or will I go?  Will my people survive?  It’s hard to get closer to that uncertainty. 

I’ve decided I need to talk to Adan.  And to Seggrit.  Adan needs to put the explosives SOMEWHERE ELSE.  And maybe not be out trysting with Minaeve during the party.  You know that’s what they were doing.  Seggrit needs to head for the Chantry with Mika instead of home when the stuff hits the fan.  I’m going to do my best to improve Seggrit and Adan’s chances.  I can’t excuse my inaction by “preserving the timeline” any more to myself.  If something happens to them…  Anyway.  I need to talk to them. Tomorrow.

Dinner, singing, bed.  We did singing around the campfire out back.  More than thirty voices singing “We Shall Overcome”.  Heavenly, especially now with the guitar added.  I use Peter Yarrow’s fingerings from Peter, Paul, and Mary’s version. 

Goodnight, darling.  Sleep well.  I miss you.


	59. Day 51, Drakonis 22, 9:41 Dragon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Interfering with the timeline, deliberately, for the first time. A letter from Merrill, unread. And no, there is no forgiveness right now.

Day 51, Drakonis 22, 9:41 Dragon:

I had pleasant dreams, but my globe changed back to the lavenderine swirled with chrysopal and banded with lapis and blue agate.  Uh, no.  Not falling for that. Banished the lapis and agate.  He kept me hurt when he could have healed me, for whatever hidden purposes or due to his own arrogance.  Maybe I’ll write that down and invisi-stick it to his door.  Or go on in and stick to his bed.  Let him explain leaving someone in pain and helpless when he could have fixed it.  Looks like he can reach pretty far, though.  He’s an hour’s drive away.

Renee visited, and everything’s fine.  Healing well.  Follow my restrictions.  Yadda yadda.  She’ll see me in three days.  Stayed for a cup of tea.  She’s a mother of two, grandmother of two. They all live in Lydes in Orlais.  I didn’t say anything about the war table missions.  I never really considered the human impact of the political maneuvering engaged in by the Inquisition.  She and her family will have to deal with the results of the Inquisitor’s choices.  And that’s hoping she’s one of the ones that survives the attack.  In the playthroughs, I thought about what was right for the Inquisition itself.  Not the people of Lydes.  I think I might have made different choices if I had.

I am walking better, but I don’t know how long that will last.  I asked Elias if he could arrange for someone burly, just in case.  He laughed at me.  That was uncalled for.  I’ve been good for days.  I’m listening and behaving.  Garalen went off to get Andrew. 

Anyway, they were taking a long time to get back.  Bet she got… distracted.  Elias went with me, heading for Haven proper.  I stopped for a bit to watch half-naked men grappling again.  That’s where Andrew found us.  With Garalen.  They both looked well-kissed.  “Heard you need a horse,” Andrew joked.  He wasn’t in armor today.  Tunic and breeches, yet he still had his sword strapped.  Probably wearing a leather breastplate under that tunic, unless I miss my guess.  My my if he wasn’t taken I might just have.  Well.  I’m apparently hormonal today. Maybe I’ll get laid before I go home.

The four of us headed up to Seggrit’s shop.  I asked Seggrit if I could talk to him in private.  We went just around the fence right there, past the busybodies.  “Do you believe in visions?  That someone could get glimpses of the future?” I asked.

“Well, Andraste had them.  Some others have, as well.  The Rivaini Seers, too.”

“I have a request of you, my friend.  Please.”

“What is it, Chrissy?”  He seemed troubled.

“At some point, there’s going to be a party here at Haven.  A huge one, with everyone participating.  There’ll be dancing right in front of your stand, and up the stairs.  I need you to stay out of buildings.  Just don’t go in the buildings.  Not for clothing, drink, a million sovereigns, or a tryst.  For no reason.”

“That’s not what I was expecting you to ask.”

“Will you promise me?”  I was pleading with him.  I know I was.  But this was important.

“I’ll try to remember, Chrissy.  I promise I’ll try.”

“I’ll be quite put out if you do not.” 

He smiled at me, and gently touched my shoulder.  “It’s good to see you healthy.  We’ve all been worried.”  I smiled back and took my leave.

I paused to lean against the wall next to the stairs.  Varric was up next to the fires, and he was my next stop.  He saw me coming and pulled out two stools.  Sweetie.  Andrew and Elias helped me sit.  “Thank you, Varric.  I needed to sit down.”

“You look it.  I see they let you out of bed, finally.”

“Yep.  I’ve been given strict instructions to take it very easy.  Walking, not running, and I’m not allowed to pick anything up.  I admit I’ve been taking breaks near Soldier’s Field.  Who can help but be out of breath watching that much half-naked masculinity grappling?”

“Cuddles, you have a real way with words.  We’ve missed you at the tavern.  You’re almost as exciting as the Herald.  That’s not a good thing.”

“Somebody has to keep everyone on their toes while he’s out, right?” I was making jokes again, but Varric didn’t smile.

“Someone tried to kill you, Cuddles, and it’s not a funny.”

“What’d they tell you?”

“Four attempts on your life.  And you didn’t even tell me about a single one.”

“I didn’t actually know about them.  They treat me like a mushroom, sometimes.”

“Mushroom?”

“Yeah.  Kept in the dark and fed bull-“ Garalen put her hand over my mouth. 

Varric laughed.  I pulled the letter I’d gotten from Kirkwall out, showing it to him.  “I don’t know anyone in Kirkwall, Varric.  I halfway think this was meant for you, but it’s addressed to me.  Do you recognize the handwriting?”

“You haven’t opened it?”  He said that suspiciously nonchalantly.

“It might not be for me, so I didn’t.  Plus, where I come from, bad things can be in letters.  Powders, poisons, illnesses.  I don’t tend to open letters from strangers in strange lands.”

“Poisons in a letter?”

“Yep.  You can either have it in powder form, so it is inhaled, or soak the paper so it gets on the skin.  Or a combination of both. You can see my caution.”

“That letter should be fine.  I kind of told a friend of mine about you and what you’re doing around here.  She asked if she could write.  She’d like to know how your situation progresses.  What kind of place do you come from that letters are so dangerous?”

“It’s from Merrill?  The keeper of Kirkwall alienage?”  I didn’t say anything about home.  How do you explain letter bombs and anthrax?

“I see you’ve heard of her.”  I was so happy/excited, I jumped up and kissed his cheek.  He didn’t seem to mind, but I hurt doing it.  He noticed. “Hey now, I know I’m sexy, but don’t hurt yourself.”  Elias rushed to help me sit back down.  I breathed shallowly for a moment.

“I’m suddenly looking forward to the mail.  Thank you, Varric.  I think conversing with Merrill will be very enlightening.”

“Daisy will be looking forward to your response, I’m sure.”

“Do you need to read it, or should I show it to the spymaster before sending it?”

“What?  Why would we need to do that?”

“Because you’re both naturally suspicious and extremely curious.  And I really don’t want to be accused of sedition.”

“Just send it.  If Nightingale wants to read it, she will.”

“I will.”  I got up, carefully.  He stood up as well.  I kissed his cheek again.  “Thanks for being a friend, Storyteller.”

“You’re welcome, Cuddles.”

Next I headed up to Adan’s place, via the Chantry board.  It still had my note.  It’d been long enough.  Damnit, it was Solas both places.  Adan’s had a pallet in front of it, but it wasn’t laden with explosives.  Yet.  That’s what he’s been making in there, when he’d not having to make healing potions.  I knocked on his door, and came in.

“Just a minute.  I’ll be right with you.”

“Take your time.”

He set his papers down in a hurry and turned around.  “Chrissy!  We’ve been so worried.”  His voice went stern on me.  “You are not to do anything like that again.”  His face softened, and he gently gathered me into a hug.  “You’re well?” he asked, arms around me.

“I am, Adan.  Or I will be.  Tired, but healing.” He released me and led me over to the chest in the corner, indicating I should sit.  I took a breath.  “Adan, do you believe regular people can have visions?”

“No, but I know some mages do.  What did you see?”

“You.  I need something from you, my friend.”

“Name it.”  He was serious.

“There’s going to be a party.  A huge party.  Probably after the breach is sealed, but maybe not.  Those jars you have around here?  They’re filled with stuff that goes up in flames easily.  Explodes, actually.  I saw you and Minaeve,” he colored at that, “up here, trapped.  And there was fire.  You were stuck and couldn’t get free.  I want you to promise me you, or you and Minaeve, won’t come up here during the party.  Or after it.  Please.  It… wasn’t pretty.  And you could store these jars farther away from your home.  That whole side yard is free, and it’s away from occupied areas while being accessible.  I can ask my guys if they’ll help you move everything.”

“I don’t know what to say.  You really saw an explosion?”  I nodded.  “And I thought Minnie and I were discrete.  No one else has mentioned it.”

“I didn’t know until what I saw, and I wasn’t sure then.  But what other reason would an attractive woman and a dashing man have to slip away from the party to a bedroom?

He looked at me.  “I’ll talk to the people in charge about moving the supplies.  And I’ll try to stay out of my house around parties.  Does that help you?”

“It does.  Be safe, okay?”  He nodded.

I really was feeling better.  I got all the way back to Ethelathe before I had to sit.  Didn’t even need to be carried once.  Holding on to Andrew’s arm is not the same thing.

I set Merrill’s letter aside.  I had other stuff I had to do. Like a nap.

I got up for dinner, and went back to bed after school.

A little more than a week, hopefully, until I have my shot at getting home, baby.  Pray for me.


	60. Day 52, Drakonis 23, 9:41 Dragon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Checking in with everyone. Herald Handsome returns with the Horsemaster. And COFFEE. Coffeecoffee. Harritt claims ME and offers me sanctuary in HIS haven.

Day 52, Drakonis 23, 9:41 Dragon:

It was a lovely morning, sun rising clear and the air moist and sweet.  Some of the flowers are starting to bloom.  It transforms the druffalo meadow.  Can you believe they’ve had COFFEE this whole time, but I didn’t know it?  Coffeecoffeecoffee.  It’s even called coffee, not some fancy other name.  I’m on my third heavenly cup, just leaning against the stone cookstove/chimney thing. 

I’m vibrating with so much caffeine after this body potentially not ever having any, but DAMN this stuff isn’t just coffee, it’s GOOD coffee.  The Chargers, of all people, brought it in.  I planned to go thank Krem for it.  Leorah tried to take my mug back after my second cup and I think I growled at her. 

Anywho, I’m feeling better today. Stronger.  Still no lifting.  I’m not going to undo Renee’s work, don’t worry.  I was good.  I went through my stacks of papers.  I swear, they multiply like rabbits when we’re not looking.  Paperwork breeds itself.  I took the time to read Merrill’s letter.  It was basically an introduction.  Varric realized what I was doing far earlier than I did, it looks like.  She talked about only the first few elves, back when we were very small, comparatively.  Delicate requests for information, cautious offering of advice, and well wishes. 

At first, I had intended to just set the letter aside and answer it later, but I changed my mind.  I wrote her back immediately.  Without going into much detail, I got out that I had kind of ended up where I was by accident.  I just couldn’t stand by and watch without trying to stop it.  It had gotten bigger, snowballing until I was somehow responsible for a hundred people I’d met less than two months ago.  How does one cope with that kind of thing?  And the overprotectiveness?  I’m purported to be in charge, but everything I do is hemmed in by people who care, and if I defy them, I hurt them.  Did she have any advice for me?  I mean, really, I love my Ethelathians, but I hadn’t been here that long.  Do people just form supremely strong bonds so quickly here? I signed it only Chrysopal. 

It was kind of nice getting it off my chest.  Thinking about it, Varric is a really smart guy.  I felt better writing to her than all the other coping things I’d tried.  I was going to have to thank him.  I folded up the letter, and another paper around it to function as an envelope, reversing the addresses on it.  I also grabbed Merrill’s letter.  Might as well let Leliana have them both at the same time.  I let people know I was going places, and started out.  I’m faster today, too.

I wasn’t so tired that I needed to rest at Soldier’s Field, but I did so anyway.  Who can resist THAT view?  Okay, hormones need to go back to sleep.  Garalen caught up with me there, and we continued on together.  The Chargers and Bull weren't in the place I expected them, so I went right past.  I didn’t walk very fast, and I was careful, but I checked in at all my stations today.

Harritt held me for a long time when I visited him.  He’s like that.  He feels things deep.  He touched my hair and my face, and told me I had to be more careful.  It wasn't romantic. Just pure caring. He offered the sanctuary of his forge anytime I need it.  “We have hammers here, and we’re strong.  We’ll protect you.”  He was serious, and his helpers solemnly reiterated his words.  He called me his little girl, and told me I should have come sooner.  I got all teary and he told me to buck up and get out of there.

Most other stations were fine.  I did need to rest a few times.  Cook ensconced me at the table in the kitchen and plied me with food.  “Eat!” she said. The girls were all glad I was alright.  I thanked Cook for protecting my ladies.  “Your ladies?  They’re my ladies, and you too!  Now eat up, I said, and stop talking nonsense.”  Isn’t she amazing?  The scullery pulled out a stool and chattered nonstop about nothing.  It was smart of them.  I’d been kind of drooping, and by the time their gossip ran down, I was restored.

I stopped by to see Varric in the tavern.  He was sitting with Sera.  I was going to leave them be, when she piped up, “Don’t stink, do I?  Some reason you won’t sit?”  How could I leave after that?  I handed both letters to Varric, saying it was just in case he was curious.  I really didn’t mind if he read them.  It might even help. 

“You sure, Cuddles?”

“Sod it, Varric.  She gave ‘em to you, didn’t she.”  Sera is very… verbal.  I am definitely not writing exactly what else she said.  I’m not sure I could replicate her tone here.  Anyway, after he read my letter to Merrill, she snagged it.  Damn it.  She skimmed the thing, and said something along the lines of “if you’re feeling itchy, just ditch ‘em, yeah?”  She continued along the lines of “Get me, and I’ll put an arrow in the annoying ones.”  She’s… colorful, and I’ve cleaned things a bit.  She handed the letter back to Varric, and he put it back in my makeshift envelope.  She told me I “look different” than most "elfy" people.  “More there, right?” More There.  Well, that’s clear as mud.

I took my leave and wandered up to Leliana’s tent.  I knocked on the tent pole and she waved a hand at me.  I moved in a bit.  “Yes?” she asked. 

I held up the letters. “I got a letter, and I’m sending a letter.  I’m not sure who to give them to, and figure that you’d probably want someone to read them anyway.”

She looked like she was going to say something, but then she sighed.  Probably couldn’t honestly argue.  “Put them there.”  She pointed.  “I’m glad you’re better.  Try not to start any more riots, okay?”

Riots?  “I didn’t know I started a riot.  I apologize.”  She waved me off.

I checked my other usual haunts, coming away with a pat on the head from Adan, yarn from Hannah, and soap from the bathhouse.  And Inquisibabe arrived, DENNET in tow.  And Blackwall. And horses.  Lots of horses.  Probably thirty or forty.  Hell if I know where we’re gonna put them.  And I’m a horrible person, because my first thought was that he hadn’t been gone long enough to get the mages yet. Maybe he made the first visit and now he has to wait on the war table. A girl can hope.

I started to head over to the stables, because well, that’s what you do when you see a passel of work coming.  Garalen grabbed my arm and firmly said “NO”.  After a short argument, I was permitted to go over there, just to meet the horses.  I had Eadras, the boys, Elias, and Garalen all guarding me.  Sigh.  Eadras sternly told me that if I picked up a single tool or made any effort to participate other than as spectator, I’d be hauled off and spanked.

Inquisibabe was very happy to see me up and about.  Too happy.  He hopped off his horse and strode over, grabbing me around the middle and picking me up for a bear hug.  OWOWOW!  Solas actually came to my rescue, oddly enough.  “Release her, Herald, before you reopen her wound!” sounded out over the din.  I was seeing stars, and my people snatched me back, leading me to one of the many short walls around.  I sat. 

Herald Hottie called over Solas, but I firmly stated that I would rather drink poison than let that elf touch me.  Garalen immediately stood between us.  I also felt something shimmer between Garalen and Solas.  Andrew came up behind me and put his hand on my shoulder.  An anti-magic shield?  He HAS been practicing.  Elias ran to get Renee.  I trusted Renee.  I couldn’t trust that Solas wouldn’t keep me injured.  Again.  Shocked and Frustrated Egg face is a wonderful thing, though.  I really think he was unaware of the depth of my ire.  Maybe he doesn’t know that I figured out he was keeping me hurt?

Renee came running up, and cool blue flowed over me.  “You’ve not done more damage, but you need to REST, Ethelathun.  Not play with the horses.”  Egghead narrowed his eyes at that one.  I was NOT looking at him.  He was just, you know, in my sight.  Inquisibabe admitted it was his fault.  He’d thought I was all better, not mostly better.  Renee scolded him, and he let her. She told me that she wanted me back in bed.  Immediately.

The Herald leaned down to pick me up.  “Why does every man of my acquaintance think I’m a sack of potatoes to be hefted about?  I can walk.”  And I spoiled it by staggering as I stood up.  He didn’t lean down again, but he did offer his arm.  I’m not a fool.  I took it, because the look in his eyes was take it or be carried.  I patted his arm.  “You have to handle your horse, and take care of getting the Horsemaster settled, and report in.  My people can take it from here, Herald.”

“Sam.”

“What?”

“I’ll let you get it done, but you’ll call me Sam.  Too many people Heralding at me recently.”

I acquiesced, and made my way (Painfully.  He’d really hurt!) back to Ethelathe with the help of Eadras and Elias.

We ate, but I skipped school.  I really do hurt.  Garalen sat down next to my bed this evening.  “Why are we mad at Solas?” she asked.

“Remember those two days he was so solicitous, helping, claiming to be healing?”

“Yes, why?”

“Remember the very next day, when all of a sudden I was SO much better and could walk and stuff after Renee came by for twenty minutes?”

“Yes…  wait.  That BASTARD.”  She looked livid as the realization dawned on her.

“Yeah.  He KEPT me hurt.  Until I know why, and that he won’t do so again, I can’t trust him at all.”

“You never trusted him to begin with,” she chided.

“And am I apologizing for that now, because he’s shown how wrong I was?”

“No.  You were right.  How did you know?”

“Garalen, I love you to pieces, but let’s just leave it at ‘I’m a good judge of character’, okay?”

“If you insist.”  And I did.

I’m dreading bed tonight.  He’s close and comfortable.  But I hurt, so I have no real choice.  I love you, baby.  Be good, okay?  I’d say how many days I have left, but I don’t quite know at this point.  Hopefully fewer than I dread.

 


	61. Day 53, Drakonis 24, 9:41 Dragon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A surprisingly good apology, meeting The Iron Bull officially, and the long-awaited bonfire. Yes, we win money.

Day 53, Drakonis 24, 9:41 Dragon:

Damn Solas was in my globe.  Waiting for me.  Leaning up against a tree I DIDN’T PUT THERE.  I glared at him.  “Deceiver.  Leave,” I spat at him.

“Chrissy, I..”

“LEAVE! You kept me hurt and imprisoned, caged in a body that wouldn’t work and was vulnerable to any attack.  I couldn’t even BREATHE until I healed MYSELF,” I threw at him.  Uh, the fade takes things kind of literally, so if you picture him being assaulted with actual letters made of I’m not sure what, then you’d be kind of accurate.  They were peridot green, I know that.  He flinched like that hurt.  GOOD.  “You LIED to me about WHY you wouldn’t heal me.  Either that, or you assumed you couldn’t because you can’t comprehend anything outside your narrow world view.”  I paused.  “I don’t understand why you didn’t just kill me yourself.”  He took a step forward, and I backed up.

He opened his mouth.  Then closed it.  Opened it again and said, “You play with metaphysical energies you don’t understand.” 

“Seriously?  I give you a shot at getting off the shit list and you start with a lecture on how I’M screwing up?  We’re done.”  I turned away from him, sat down on my old rocker recliner (that magically appeared under my butt), and put in my iPod so I wouldn’t hear him.  I was to all intents and purposes alone.  Yeah, I know I was bitch with him, but I’d believed his lies.  Even knowing he was a trickster-deceiver.  I was as much angry with myself as him, I suppose.

Oddly, I woke up both very late in the morning and rested. The sun was at least mid-morning high.  Nothing hurt except for a bit of a twinge when I stretched too far.  When I changed, my bruises were much healed, faded to pretty yellows and greens.  I didn’t see a scar at all.  I could take a full breath comfortably.  What the hell?  If this was some sort of apology, it was actually a pretty good one.

I got dressed on my own, and came out of my corner.  Cara was looking out the window.  I looked out, and hobo elf was there, leaning against the rock.  When he saw my face, he stood up and walked off.  Not a word.  Cara looked at me.  “I had a bruise on my leg.  I’d been clumsy and walked into a table.  It’s gone.  Grandfather’s hands are strong today.”  As an aside, grandfather?  Eadras was her grandfather?  “Lots of little hurts are missing, from all of us.”

“All of us?”  She nodded. “Hmmm.”

“He’s sorry,” she said, looking at me.

“Are you his mouth now?”

“No.  But he stood there a long time waiting to see you.”  I put my arm around her shoulders, but didn’t respond.  As apologies went, healing me, even belatedly, past what other healers could do was good.  Healing my people as well?  That’s actually good enough it might work. Eventually.

My day started very late.  Luckily I didn’t have very much slotted for me to do.  I’d planned on being an invalid for far longer.  Regrettably, Ethelathe didn’t get the message that I was better.  Well, they got it.  They just really didn’t care.  I was still grounded.  Also, I missed the alcohol shipment.  Shit.  Maybe I can Nearbeer it later.

One thing they did want me to do was go earn them some sovereigns.  Looks like I’m performing tonight.  I’d suggested another bonfire a week or so ago, but then the payday from hell happened, and everything went to shit. They wanted to do it today, inviting the Herald as well as Cullen and Varric.  And anyone else who wanted to come.  A huge party.

Josephine had personally delivered all the wages that hadn’t yet been received.  She apparently said she “dared someone” to treat her the way they’d treated us.  I had my own little sack.  I’m not sure how much was in it, but it was a fair bit.  I took about twenty out, and left the rest on my bed.

Meandering up to Haven felt good when I didn’t hurt.  It was still itchy/icy, but I’m used to that.  Garalen caught up with me very quickly.  So much for slipping out.  I didn’t complain, though.  It was a strange mood to be in.  Had to stop at Soldier’s Field.  Need my daily fix of sweaty testosterone viewing. 

Bull and Krem were next to the main gate.  I stopped by there, making sure the wall of the stairs was between me and them.  They both turned to look at me when I stopped.  “I just wanted to say I appreciate your culinary contributions.  Cook said the coffee was donated by you Chargers, and I hadn’t had coffee in months.  The little comforts can be so important.  Thank you.”  I must have shocked them, because both of them just stared at me.

Bull eyed me, and then just said, “You’re welcome.”  I smiled and headed up the stairs.

I continued on through my usual stops, not actually having to sit and rest.  That means it took less than half an hour instead of half a day like before.  I warned Seggrit and Adan that we were doing the bonfire thing tonight, and that it WASN’T the party I told them about.  I slipped the twenty silvers into Seggrit’s cash box when he was busy with another customer.  It wasn’t exactly hard.  I do read, after all, and it’s easier to put things there than take them out.  I knew, just KNEW that he’d been giving Ethelathe things at a loss. 

I asked Varric on my way up if he’d changed his bet on whether or not I could sing.  He told me that he hadn’t, because I was way too cocky about this.  When I got up to the chantry, I told Josie I was planning on winning some money tonight with her guitar, and that she was welcome to come.  She told me she’d be there.

I stopped by the board.  It was wiped clean.  I stared at it for a while, then wrote “Bonfire.  You can come.  If you want.  Just stay away from me.  I’m still mad at you.”  It took up the whole board.

As I was coming back down, I noticed Varric in his usual spot talking to The Iron Bull.  “Cuddles!” he called.  “You haven’t been formally introduced, though our large friend here says you have nice manners.”  He turned to Bull.  “Iron Bull, this is Chrysopal, otherwise known as Chrissy or Cuddles.  Cuddles, this is the Iron Bull.”

I curtsied.  “Pleased to meet you.”

“Oh, don’t start with that shit.  Chrysopal.  Because it matches your eyes?”

“You’re the only person who’s known what a Chrysopal is.  Yes, because it matches my eyes.”

“You’re the only person who bothered to find out where the coffee came from and thank us.”

Varric interjected with “Some of us don’t actually LIKE coffee.”

I said, “My friend Leorah actually told me.  I didn’t hunt the information.  She probably found out from Cook.  You know, there’s going to be a bonfire behind Ethelathe tonight.  I have to win some of Storyteller’s money.”

“I told you, you’re too smug about this. You’re probably terrible,” Varric chimed in.

“I’m betting you bet both ways, and will come out ahead no matter what.” 

The Iron Bull roared with laughter.  “She’s got your number, Varric.  We might show up, Chrysopal.  Could be interesting.”

“Ever heard of Kizomba?”

“No.  What is it?”

“A dance.  Nevermind.  I should head back.  The kids think they’re going to get out of lessons, and I have to disabuse them of that notion.”

“You brought your kids near to that thing?”  The Iron Bull sounded incredulous.

“No, I claimed kids left orphaned by that thing.  Good day, ser.”  That last bit may have been a bit snarky.

I swept off to the accompaniment of Varric laughing, saying, “Looks like she’s got your number, too, Bull.”  I’m a bit of a bitch sometimes.

We got a few minutes of lessons in, but Harritt and his guys cut out early to help us set up the bonfire.  I’m still grounded, so I got to watch, but not participate.  I sat on a log, strumming the guitar idly.  I was practicing my chords for the choices I’d made.  Two songs, maybe three, nothing like the songs I’d heard here, but not so different that they’d be hated.  Oh, I forgot to mention I’d checked with Maryden to make sure I wouldn’t be stepping on any toes.

Just like last time, everyone brought bits and pieces.  Half a pie, a few fruits, stuff like that.  All together, it was quite the feast.  People spent time together.  Mika was cuddling with Seggrit.  Feren had his arm around Isa.  Andrew was sitting next to Garalen, tracing patterns in her palm.  Varric was over by the food, Inquisibabe was standing with Josie, and even Cassandra was there.  Eventually, as the sun dipped below the horizon, I decided to kick off the singing. 

Have you ever heard the song “The Voice”?  It’s the winner of the Eurovision song contest of 1996.  It was also done by Celtic Woman.  Sounds like what they have here, but better.  It starts with a piercing high note that caught everyone’s attention.  I wasn’t even a stanza into it when money started changing hands.  HAH!  That’ll teach them.  You’d think they’d know after I told them how terrible I was.  The fun part is that I saw The Iron Bull at that point, collecting money from Sera.  He’d bet for me.

And then Varric called out “Bet you can’t sing a song I don’t know twice!”  He must have bet that I could. 

“How about something different!” I called.  “Or we can give someone else a turn!”  That got a response.  Encore it is.  “Let’s slow it down.”  I sat down and strummed into Sara Bareilles’ “She Used to be Mine” from Waitress.

“She's imperfect but she tries  
She is good but she lies  
She is hard on herself  
She is broken and won't ask for help  
She is messy but she's kind  
She is lonely most of the time  
She is all of this mixed up  
And baked in a beautiful pie  
She is gone but she used to be mine”

It’s a beautiful song, and it made Josie cry.  I was both thrilled and sad that I’d done that to her.  It was surprisingly quiet around the fires when I was done.  I handed the guitar off to Eadras to whistling and stomping.  Must have done good.  My elves were smiling.  They’d nearly all been receiving coin.  I have a lot more songs up my sleeve now that I have a guitar to use.  I think I’ll pull out Evynne Hollens’ version of Defying Gravity later.  I love it when her voice says “No wizard that there is or was is ever gonna bring me down.”  Might be apropos.

As the evening went on, more singers, more dancing.  I ended up dancing with Inquisibabe twice.  He told me he appreciated the party because he had to leave for Redcliffe again in the morning.  Eadras insisted on latin dances with me, which was fun.  One Kizomba.  He’s been practicing.  Varric doesn’t dance.  He said so.  He does, however get drunk and then he does.  Badly.  Very badly.  I wasn’t invited into the more exertive dances, like the stomps and the flying dances.  (That’s what the jumping around in a circle dance that looked like Cossack-indian-square dancing is called, apparently.)

I think I kind of cheated at that bet.  I got my major in Accounting, but I spent two years in vocal performance before that, and had several years of voice lessons in my youth.  And most of us in America have been in choir or band in school, at least at the lower grades.  Rudimentary vocal training, at least, is common for most modern people.  Most have more advanced training, although they aren’t expert.

As the evening progressed, I took the boys to tuck them into bed.  Kisses and cuddles and hugs.  They’ve missed these things as much as I have.  Cara turned in at the same time, so I headed back out to the party.  I spotted Solas at the other side of the fire.  He did come.  I’m still not speaking to him.  I find it interesting that none of the inner circle has said one word about this.  Even Sam, who was right there when Ethelathe kept Solas away from me, hasn’t mentioned it at all.

I grabbed a few sheets of paper and sat down on the rocks above the bonfire.  I was about peopled out, but it was nice being out in the air with all the happy energy.  I’ll probably go back down later, after I put my journal away.  I intend to drink enough not to dream.  Goodnight, my little girl.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Videos of the songs, in case you don't know them.
> 
> Sara Bareilles - She Used To Be Mine  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=53GIADHxVzM
> 
> Lisa Kelly - The Voice  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SdFHGFkyew4


	62. Day 54, Drakonis 25, 9:41 Dragon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aftermath of the party, Inquisibabe drools on Josie, Nightingale asks questions, and implementing the big brother/big sister program. And Solas is still an ass.

Day 54, Drakonis 25, 9:41 Dragon:

No dreams that I remember.  Is that a good thing or a bad thing?

I’m not sure how many showed up to the bonfire last night, but if I had to guess, half of Haven was still laying on the ground around here, snoring, when I awoke.  Several of us had apparently ended up sleeping in a pile which actually included inquisibabe.  That man sounds like a freight train.  It’s adorable, he’s curled into Varric’s side, and he’s using a leg as a teddy bear.  Josie’s leg.  As I untangled myself, I realized I was cuddled up to Andrew’s friend, Gunther, that I’d met earlier.  At least everybody was wearing clothes.  No hangover, which was a surprise.

First thing I did was check on the boys and Cara.  They were fine, still sleeping.  I was up rather early, after all.  Andrew and Garalen were some of the only people in tents, and they had one to themselves.  They’d *ahem* left the flap open.  I closed it for them, because I’m nice. Not so nice I won’t be TELLING them I closed it at the most embarrassing time I can find, though.

Leliana caught up with me as I was picking up some of the inevitable trash.  “Where’d you train as a bard?”

“I didn’t.  Where I come from, every child is exposed to music as part of their general education.  Once they reach about 12 or so, they have the opportunity to include it among their more advanced studies, as well.  Most don’t do so, but the early education sticks.  We don’t associate bards with your Orlesian Games.  I’d say that fully half of my people could function as a rudimentary minstrel, at least for children, and an eighth of them could pass for a professional if pressed.  Our true professionals are VERY good.  Maybe one in a thousand.” 

I looked at her.  "I heard you singing last night.  You'd probably be able to go professional in my land.  I'm no better than the average tavern singer.  Back home, we have this thing called Karaoke, in which we all go to a tavern and entertain each other with our musical stylings.  We do this for fun.  We're a musical people."  I shrugged. 

It’s hard to explain the fact that music permeates every aspect of our lives back in the States.  We hear it shopping, driving, in elevators.  It’s the background to everything we do.  We even carry it around with us with ipods and the like.  In Thedas, music doesn’t float every moment of every day. Can you imagine how someone from Thedas would react to a shopping mall, with every store playing not just different music, but different styles?  And then the mall itself playing something else in the halls?  And we’re all shower singers, or car singers, or something.

She looked at me.  “How come everything you say sounds completely implausible, and has the ring of truth to it?”

"Because it is true."

“You don’t move like someone who knows about fighting.  Then you stand up to people who could easily hurt you, apparently without fear.  You walk like a highborn.  Then you work as hard as the meanest scullery.  You are a puzzle, Chrysopal.”  She said this rather musingly.  Leliana musing is… not comfortable.

“I took some classes a long time ago in hand to hand, but it didn’t really stick.  I was just doing it for fun and exercise.  I could probably get out of some holds, maybe get a few blows in, but I’m not a warrior.  Varric says I tend to tell the truth in a way that confuses everyone.  It frustrates him as well.  I don’t mean to, really.  I just know that if I lie, you guys will know.  I’m a horrible liar.  So I tell the truth, and then everyone says I make no sense.  I make perfect sense to me.”  I shrugged. 

“We can’t find Virginia on our maps.”

“I’m not surprised.”

“Could you place it there?”

“Actually, no.  I’m not sure where it would be, and I was not conscious for the trip here.  I wouldn’t be able to reconstruct the journey.”

“I see.”  She eyed me carefully.  “Enjoy your day, Chrysopal.”  That woman walks SCARY.

I was about done with maybe an eighth of the trash when people started waking up.  Josie attempted to gently remove her leg from Inquisibabe’s grasp, but he slid up it and hugged her thigh, head perilously close to more delicate bits.  She blushed the loveliest shade of rose.  I walked over and poked his side.  “Hey, let go of the Ambassador, before she turns purple.”

Josie turned a brighter pink.  I was bent over them, and Sam let go, grabbing at the hand I was poking him with, but letting go of Josie.  He apparently wasn’t awake, because he rolled over, taking me with him.  He ended up with his head on my stomach, me on my back, his arms wrapped around my middle.  Josie was getting up, smiling.  “He is apparently a cuddler, Chrissy.  Didn’t Varric call you Cuddles?”

“That’s the last time I rescue you,” I slung at her playfully.  I tried to push him off, but he just wiggled and repositioned, holding tighter.  Josephine dissolved into giggles.  Of course, Varric woke up then, because Sam’s legs were moving around.

He sat up, holding his head, before glancing over.  “If you think I’m not putting this in a book, you’re apparently going to pay me quite handsomely.”

“Could you get him off me?”

“Me?  I’m just a dwarf.  With a headache.  He’s our fearless leader.  And really, who could blame him for wanting to cuddle, Cuddles?  I have got to go write this down.” The little shit was grinning.

“Me!  I can blame him.  Varric!”  It had no effect.  Varric wandered off, laughing, leaving me trapped by a snoring, drooling human octopus.  Josie was offering to get someone, and putting up suggestions, when Egghead showed up.

“Can I help?”

“Oh yes, Ser Solas, please,” Josephine begged.  “He positively refuses to wake up, and he rolled over on Chrissy when she got him to let go of my leg.”  I kept my mouth shut.  Some emotion flashed over his face, but it was gone too fast for me to identify it before his usual urbane expression returned.

Solas walked away and got a pitcher.  Oh no, he wouldn’t.  And I was wrong.  He proceeded to pour the contents of the pitcher, SOUR ALE, all over inquisibabe’s head.  Which means he dumped it ON ME.  Sam sat upright, letting go and sputtering, of course.  Solas squatted next to him.  “You had an unwilling pillow, Herald.  Do try to get permission before drooling on the ladies.”  Sam turned his head, saw me covered with ale, and started stammering apologies.

I stood up.  I was soaked.  This was NOT the way to make me happier with him, so I glared at Solas.  And at Sam, for grabbing in the first place.  Equal opportunity glaring.  Men.  And Sam, as I was leaving, asked, “What, no good morning kiss?” Asshole.

I turned around.  “Considering you were drooling on Josie’s upper thigh not ten minutes ago, I think not.  Perhaps she would appreciate an apology?  Or maybe you could convince her to kiss you.  She was blushing a beautiful rose. Besides, I don't kiss oafs.”  I was a bit annoyed.  What a wonderfully expressive face he has.  I love doing that to people.  Josie was standing there, in shock, when he started his apologies on her.

Ugh.  Solas followed me as I walked off.  “Is there a reason you dumped a pitcher of ale on me?” I practically snarled it at him.

“It is the usual way we wake him up in the field.  He sleeps like a dwarf.  Usually, I admit, we use water.”

“Water would have been better.  Sour ale stinks, and it’s sticky, and…”  He interrupted.

“It also, apparently, got you annoyed enough to speak with me.” Was that a SMIRK?

Damn it, he was right.  I glared at him, then turned and stomped back to Ethelathe cottage.  I’d clean up the field after I cleaned up me.  Did the school thing and some paperwork, too.  The boys had a lot of fun at the party last night.  They talked about it nonstop, so math ended up being food portions and numbers of dancers, just to get them to concentrate.

It was about mid-day when Blackwall, The Iron Bull, and Inquisibabe headed out, on new horses, with spares. That way they’d move faster.  They’d been invited to Redcliffe.  Looks like Sam’s going to side with the mages.  Hopefully he’ll ally, not conscript.  It may throw my timelines off, their having higher quality horses and swap-out mounts. 

And Squee!  Dorian!  And Cole.  I just realized that if I get sent back when they close the breach, I’ll never meet Cole!  I’m so torn now.  Well, a little torn.  Home.

Anyway, them leaving reminded me that I needed to check with Gethon and the stables.  Master Dennet’s arrival could be a big shake-up, and finding places for all the horses wouldn’t be easy.  I’d been shooed out of bonfire cleanup, after all.  Is it bad of me that I find it a point of pride I cleaned up a bunch on my own before they got involved?  I didn’t even argue with them about not participating, which got me some suspicious looks.

Everything was fine at the stables.  Gethon and the others like Master Dennet well enough, and he seems to respect the guys.  I did happen to overhear a bit of an argument between Madame de Fer and Dennet.  Apparently he’s not willing to tack up “his” horses in the way she requires.  “You can do whatever you want to your horse, Lady, but you’ll not be doing that to mine.”  She’d wanted a “more spirited” mount.  Seriously?  After she tied and punished and tortured the spirit out of the last one?

I was still displeased when I got to the tavern, and ended up ranting about it to Sera.  I didn’t mean to.  She really pulls stuff out of you.  How she’s worse than Varric, I don’t know, but she is.  Somehow we ended up discussing how I worked in a stable in my first year of college (hey, it was decent money), and I ended up explaining all the different tack that pissed me off to her.  And which ones I’d taken off Viv’s horse.  And the concept of high school.  Don’t ask me how we got to the concept of high school.  I was there, and I don’t know.  “You mean, it’s like the boringest party ever, fancy clothes and hair and stuff, putting the little shits on display so they can pair off, but it’s every day for 4 years?”  Yes, that’s what she got out of high school.  A “low-brow stupid long Orlesian meat market.”  She was more… colorful in her language.

Anyway.  I checked on the board.  I couldn’t help myself.  It said “Ir Abelas” without using squiggles.

I wrote, “Only because you got caught.”

Elias and I made sure that some extra packs of spare clothing and medikits were left in a corner of the Chantry.  Not that I was allowed to carry any.  Still grounded.  Found little Laura there.  She was crying because Stephen (the other little orphan boy I know) doesn’t want to play with her because “girls are stupid.”  I told her that he’d change his mind by the time he was twenty.  A girl after my own heart, she said she didn’t think he’d live that long.  So, I introduced her to Josie. 

It was love at first sight, truly.  Not in a “I want to adopt you” way, but in a big brother/big sister program way.  Laura complimented Josie’s fluffy quill, and Josie melted.  Then she invited her to use it.  I left them chatting and conducting writing lessons.  My boys are far more advanced in their letters.  I’m not sure if that’s a childminder issue or if they didn’t think it was important to school the orphans.  Or maybe the girl.  Don’t know.  Anyway, Josie’s got this. 

In my opinion, Laura’s chances of survival just went up.  Now to manage Stephen.  I don’t trust those childminders.  At least all the other young children have been claimed or relocated.  Another thing to put on my mental list.  I have to make sure everything’s in place so it goes smoothly if I’m not here.

Dinner was lovely.  We got meat pies at the tavern and had them outside in back, where the tents are.  I love Cook’s meat pies.  She hasn’t shared the recipe yet, but I’m still asking.  I admit, I ate Dee and Dum’s leftovers, too.  Hey, I LOVE those meat pies.  School, singing, bed.  It turned out to be a good day.

Logistics:

Medikit for everyone.  Half again as many in spares, stored in the Chantry.  Another quarter stored with Adan.

Go bags.  Everyone has been instructed that if there is a party after the breach is closed, they are to move their go bags to the Chantry.  I used the “Please, it’s just a bad feeling.  I don’t want to talk about it.”  They think I’m a seer, but I’m not.  I've never claimed to be.

I also asked that the boys be moved up to the Chantry for the party.  “I’m concerned someone will attack Ethelathe while we’re all distracted.”  Cara promised to take them there before the party and care for them.  They think I'm talking about a disgruntled human or two.

Timeline:

 ~~14 Herald leaves for Hinterlands~~  
~~20 Mother Giselle Arrives~~  
~~23 Herald back~~  
~~24 Day off~~  
~~25 Day off.~~  
~~26-33 Val Royeaux~~  
~~34 Day off in Haven~~  
~~35 Extra day off in Haven~~  
~~36 Another day in Haven~~  
~~37 Leave for Storm Coast~~  
~~37-45 Storm coast~~  
~~45 Payday from hell~~  
~~46 Day off~~  
~~47 Day off~~  
~~48 Leave for Hinterlands~~  
~~48-52 Playing in hinterlands~~  
~~53 Day off~~  
54 Leave for Hinterlands  
54-58? Fetch mages in redcliffe  
61? mages arrive  
62? Prep for breach  
63? Seal the breach

9 days before my shot to go home.  Pray for me, baby.


	63. Day 55, Drakonis 26, 9:41 Dragon, afternoon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pensive moods and random musings

Day 55, Drakonis 26, 9:41 Dragon, afternoon:

My fade space was full of flowers.  A whole field of them.  They smell so heavenly I can’t bring myself to banish them.  He’s still trying to apologize, I guess.  Why is he so focused on the fact that I’m not letting him near me?  I’m a nobody.  He should be getting close to Inquisibabe, so that he can steer the way the Inquisition goes.  Recover the orb, destroy the veil, etc. etc.  As Bull would say:  MAAAAYHEEEEM. 

I need to figure out his game.  He has to have some agenda. I spent the night laying in flowers and watching a sky with only one gray moon go by.  I really miss home.  Little wisps of spirit floated in the air like dandelion seeds.  They’re kind of cute, actually.  Maybe the Fade functions as the Guf of Souls does.  Storing souls or spirits until they’re reborn again.  The concept of “reforming” a spirit, but who would be someone new, was discussed in the game.  Reincarnation?  A thought for another time.

Anyway, I awoke refreshed, more so than usual.  The bruising is entirely gone.  There’s not a single scar, sore, bump, bruise, anything on my whole body.  It’s weird.  On a hunch, I checked my boys’ legs.  Everyone knows that little kids have bruises up and down their legs, especially when they’re as active as these are.  I know for a fact that Daniel busted his knee yesterday.  Not enough to require healing, but normal bruises.  Nothing.  Not a single mark.  Bet that’s why I didn’t have a hangover yesterday, as well.  The amount of power he must be using is staggering.  Does he realize what he’s giving away?  Is he trying to make me ask him to stop?

I made breakfast today.  PORRIDGE.  I like porridge.  Sue me.  And I have discovered they have maple syrup.  And maple seeds.  I’m going to chat with Sera about itching powder.  Maple seeds crushed up makes the best itching powder, and I know an animal abuser that could use some itching powder in her horns.  Sera may already know, but she’d probably appreciate some.  I took the time to grind up some maple seed sails and put them in a jar, just in case I see her today.

Everybody got up and headed off.  School, normal paperwork, some minor squabbles.  Girl came in with a black eye, but said it was accidental.  A little salve fixes things up, but I’ll be keeping an eye on that.  “Walked into a door” is usually code for “my life partner hit me and I don’t want to tell.”  She was human, and she came to me.  Strangeness.  When I checked, her name was on my list.  Apparently she asked for me to do scheduling for her.  I LOOKED and discovered she was one of my more tenuous connections.  Mine, and I didn’t know it.  How’d that happen?

Scheduled for time in Sewing this afternoon.  I’ve run out of yarn, so I’m in need of more anyway.  I stashed the afghans in the Chantry for the exodus.  It went well, and I love playing in my yarns.  Eliza (one of the humans in sewing this tenday) taught me a new stitch combination, which looks like a puffball or bubble in the work, fistwide, but only fingerdeep.  Squee!  Textured blankets for the win!  Do it the other way, alternating, and my blanket is going to look like an undulating ocean.  I snagged a bunch of shades of blue.  I think I can get one more done before the breach.

I checked on everyone after work let out.  Sewing gets out a little earlier than others, primarily because we often take work home.  The Chantry board said “I’m not usually caught.”  Ass.  I replaced it with “You can stop healing us anytime.” Everyone’s good.  Got introduced to Dennet.  He lost interest in me quickly when I said I didn’t ride.  Nice, but focused.  Got asked to have dinner with Harritt and his guys.  I said yes.  It might be nice to eat while someone else is responsible for things.  He said he will guarantee my safety, so I will be picked up by someone, and dropped off, and no Garalen. 

She’s looking forward to an evening with Andrew.  Those two are thick as thieves.  I wonder what the child of a bright spot and a brighter spot will look like?  People tend to throw around terms like elf-blooded, but in general, humans are duller than elves.  There are a couple “humans” who are just a hair brighter, which I bet means they have elf somewhere in their ancestry.  Except for the human mages, which are about on par with the average elf.  Andrew is brighter than that.  What kind of potential would that have?  Well, not my business.

I’m in a pensive mood, I’m sorry.  I’ll finish this after I get home after dinner.


	64. Day 55, Drakonis 26, 9:41 Dragon, evening

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dinner at Harritt's.

Day 55, Drakonis 26, 9:41 Dragon, evening:

A large burly gentleman that I had seen at the smithy showed up for me just after dusk, swinging a huge hammer casually at his side.  I nearly laughed.  No one was going to want to mess with that!  I didn’t remember his name, but he was one of mine.  Sometimes I’m glad that most people don’t feel comfortable touching me, though.  I wasn’t in the mood to be formally escorted.  He chatted amiably with me as we walked to Harritt’s place.  It was a bunch of the guys and me.  Sounds wonderful, actually.  Harritt’s place always feels calm to me.

Harritt and his guys were actually cooking in the forge!  They’d set up tables and chairs, and were roasting what looked like an actual pig over the fire usually used for heating metal.  I admit, I laughed aloud.  I’d never thought anybody would do that, but I guess fire is fire.  This place is going to smell like bacon for weeks, which may not be a bad thing. 

We had five humans, one surprisingly tall dwarf, and me.  Wulfgang, Alex, Gruff, and Mark for the other humans, and Enborr was the dwarf.  Feren was off with Isa again, doing what young lovers do, I’m sure.  Harritt told me he thought I needed a night off of worrying, so they were going to feed me and give me that.  They also had presents for me.  “I never had any kids, but I’d want a daughter like you.”  I teared up.  They’d adopted me like I’d adopted everyone else.  He held me while I got myself together.

We did the dinner thing.  A huge dinner, I might add.  These guys packed away almost the whole pig between them.  And that didn’t even take into consideration the large bowl of carrots and the mashed turnips.  Cook had kindly provided a peach cobbler, so we had a real feast.  There was laughter and stories, and nobody mentioned anything about inquisibabe, or the breach, or even Haven.  It was all tales of their childhood, antics of their friends.  All lighthearted and fun.

When it was over, Harritt handed me a small box.  It was a special gift, he said.  I undid the bow (real ribbon!) and opened it, and inside was what looked like a silver fountain pen! It was beautiful, and I told him so.  They went around the table telling me what parts each had played in its creation.  Of course, I was immediately provided with paper to try it out.  It wrote so smoothly it could have been a ballpoint.  They’d even formulated special ink so it would refill more easily.  Adan had been in on that part.  No one had said anything!  And just to make sure I didn’t do anything foolish like give it away, they’d made another for Josie.

I hugged everybody. How could I not at that point?  Then Wulfgang and Enborr pulled out another wrapped package.  I untied the string and opened it.  It was a beautiful tooled leather vest.  “It’s not quite armor, dearie, but it’s better than nothing.”  They must have been working on these for ages.  Harritt chimed in with, “We don’t like you being stabbed.  This will help.  I’m sorry it wasn’t ready when you needed it.”  Yes, he thought I’d been stabbed, not Marta, but with the tears and my nose dripping and stuff I was in no fit state to correct them.  And it was so sweet!  Multiple handkerchiefs were thrust at me, and Alex added that when I go “all avenging elven goddess” on people next time, I’m not to forget my armor.  They’re working on something else, but it’s still in the planning stages, so I am to be careful until it’s ready.

I didn’t realize how much sending my people to Harritt’s would affect the smiths.  They talked about the stories the people I’d sent to them told, and expressed dismay at how much danger I had been in.  We then moved back to other subjects as the evening wore on.  We talked and laughed late into the night, and they all six walked me home.  I clutched my gifts to me.  I kissed each one on the cheek before I went in. 

Eadras had been waiting up for me, so I showed him my new treasures and told him about my evening.  He smoothed his hand over my hair.  “Da’len, sometimes you look up at the sky and I want to cry for the sadness in your eyes.  I don’t know what your sorrow is, but we wish you could be happy.  I’m glad Harritt and his men could help you release your tears tonight.”  I hadn’t realized I was so obvious.  I guess I need to be a little more circumspect, huh?

Well, at that point I headed for bed.  I changed into my nightgown, and put my vest on.  It’s so very comfortable.  I’m going to take it off before laying down, but I wanted to wear it.  I’m writing with my very own fountain pen, too.

Goodnight, my baby.  I really do miss you.  But I’m going to miss my family here, too.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one had actually been mostly written for a while, but it had to wait until the other things it referenced had happened. I hope you enjoy it. I cried writing it, but there's nothing explicitly sad or anything. I just picture things as I write them.


	65. Day 56, Drakonis 27, 9:41 Dragon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> New clothes, unexplained happy, sort of forgiving the asshole, meeting Krem and Cassandra.

Day 56, Drakonis 27, 9:41 Dragon:

My dreams were just dreams. I think.

Leorah knew about my vest.  She’d already made a tunic to go under it in a turquoise blue.  Turns out it was halla leather, and there are stylized trees etched it. (It’s easier to see in daylight.) The tunic has matching embroidery.  She’s absconded with my other clothes.  Again.  So this is what I’m wearing.  Cream leather leggings that aren’t thick enough to be real armor, the turquoise tunic, and a halla leather vest.  And boots.  I feel pretty today.  Everything matches, and it’s the color of my eyes.  I thanked her.  It was all beautiful.

We did school and breakfast, and then I ran out to see my forge guys.  They needed to see how it looked on me.  I stopped for my daily fix of sweaty half-nakedness.  Really need to do something about these hormones.  Elias caught up with me there.  Apparently he’s got Chrissywatch today.

“The form’s good, but their footwork needs help.”  Krem had come up behind me.  “You watch them every day.”

“I don’t know anything about form or footwork.  I’m watching half-naked sweaty muscle men grappling with each other.  Enjoying the view, as it were.”  Elias choked next to me.  I turned to him.  “Didn’t you know?”  Poor Elias.  I think he thought I was evaluating technique too.

Krem chuckled.  “Whatever works.”

I decided to keep my interaction with the Charger brief.  “I have to run off to the forge.  See you later, Ser.” 

“Cremisius Aclassi.  Or Krem, really.”

“Krem, then.  And I’m Chrissy.”  I just barely kept myself from dipping into a cheeky curtsy, but I think he caught it anyway, based on his expression.  Tevenes.  They’re so stuffy.  I can’t wait to meet Dorian.  I skipped off.  Literally.  I was very happy today, and there wasn’t even a twinge of soreness anywhere.

I got to the forge and was greeted enthusiastically with small waves and smiles.  From these usually taciturn men, that WAS enthusiastic.  “Hiya Uncle Harritt!  Hey guys!” I called. 

His eyes twinkled.  “Hello there, Cuddle bug.” 

I was surprised.  “What, Cuddles isn’t bad enough, you’re going to add BUG to it?”

He just looked at me, nodded, and said, “Yep.”  I shook my head.  I’d take it.  Why not.  He stopped what he was doing and walked over.  “You look nice today.  I’m glad you like it so much,” he said, as he touched the collar of my vest.  He reached under one of the drafting tables and pulled out another box, with a blue ribbon.  “Since you’re going to want to give one to the Ambassador, we packaged it for you.”  I went to give him a hug, but he fended me off.  “Now, now.  I don’t want to get you all dirty.”  I leaned over and kissed his cheek instead.  Of course the guys all wanted in on that, complaining that they helped and deserved kisses too.  So I obliged and smooched cheeks, even Feren.  Something shifted in me last night, I think.

I took the box and took off.  I waved at Krem as I passed, saying hello, and bounced up the stairs.  I checked on my stations as I went.  Everyone was healthy, disgustingly so, since that means that Egghead is still soothing away the stupid little stuff.  Seriously, it’s possible to go overboard.  Pain teaches, and lingering soreness is a good way of saying “Stupid, don’t do that again.”

As I went by Varric, I got a wild hair up my butt and leaned over to smooch his cheek, too.  “What was that for?” I heard as I walked off. 

I turned around, walking backwards, and said, “It’s a beautiful day, so I shared!”  He shook his head and I went off toward the tavern.  Sera was there, so I plopped down next to her and set my nondescript jar on the table.  I grinned, and said, “Hey, you ever heard of itching powder?”

“Who hasn’t!”

“Need some?”

“Always, yeah?”

“Here you go.”  I looked at her.  “Do me a favor?  If it happens to get near miss prissy-britches, make sure it’s in her HORNS, too. If it doesn’t?  Have fun.  Whatever you want to do.”

She opened the jar and looked.  “Maple?”

“Yup.  They were all on the ground outside druffalo bluff when the snow melted.”

“There’s more?”

“Tons more.  If you need jars, we’ve got them.  Visiting nobles throw all sorts of crazy stuff away.  Gotta go.  See ya!”

Interactions with Sera are best kept short, too.  I don’t think she realizes I’m a mage yet.  I hope she’s not mad when she does.  Speaking of me being a mage, turns out there was a lot of money changing hands, again, after the Payday From Hell.  All those people who had won money when the Templars did their thing had to pay it back, and other people won money.  Now I know the source of some of the glares.  Maybe she does realize I’m a mage.

Speaking of Templars, Andrew and Gunther and a nice gentleman I hadn’t yet met but approve of are apparently moving in.  Lissette from the game and some others are moving in with the Soldiers.  The Templar encampment is being packed up. Out of probably 30-ish Templars still here, 20-ish are leaving.  The last of the Lord Seeker boot lickers. How much you want to bet that we’re going to be seeing some familiar faces in the opposing ranks? Inquisibabe must have arrived at Redcliffe, and the opposing side is being called in.  I have a feeling he’s going to need a hug when he gets back.  That stuff was scary just playing it in game.

Adan’s place is still covered in jars of oil. Solas wasn’t at his usual spot.  I asked Adan to be careful again.  He told me that Threnn wouldn’t move the jars.  That BITCH.  Empty frickin’ field right there, but no, the fireballs to be have to be right next to the habitations.  I’m fixing this tonight.  Threnn can stuff it up her tight ass.

I was in a bit of a mood when I got to the Chantry board.  Damn thing said “I know I can.”  Snot.  I wrote “Knock it off”, and as I was adding a third exclamation point, HIS voice near my ear said, “You could always ask me to stop.”  YIKES.

I probably jumped a foot in the air.  And I might have shrieked.  And he had to dodge to avoid my arm as I turned.  That was no excuse for him to laugh at me.  “You need a bell.  Damn it,” I said  He moved further away from me.  Probably to avoid my uncoordinated flailing.

“A bell?”

“Yes.  Around your neck, announcing where you are.”  He just smirked at me.

“Ask me to stop and I will.”  His face was composed again.

“No.  Knock it off.  Pain teaches, and you are preventing lessons.”

His eyebrows shot up.  “That’s an interesting reason for wanting me to stop.”  I rolled my eyes at him.  “I’ll stop if you ask me,” he almost purred, stepping just a hair closer.  I tensed.  He arched one brow, but eased back slightly, waiting.

“Fine.  Lord Solas, would you please stop wasting magical energy healing the small hurts that shouldn’t be healed?”  I’m amazed I got it out between my teeth.

“For you, certainly, Ethelathun.”  He tilted his head, just a hair.

“Don’t call me that.  I don’t even know what it means.”

“Interesting.  Do you want to?”

“Eadras could explain it, I’m sure.”  I turned to go, and he somehow managed to be in front of me again.  “Move, Solas.  I don’t tolerate being caged well.”

“So I have learned, to my eternal regret.  I am sorry, Lady Chrysopal.”  Was that actually real regret on his face as he stepped back?  I wasn’t going to think about it.  I’m still not. I’m leaving.  I have to hold on to that.

“Good.  Then MOVE,” I said, firmly.  I really need a rolled up newspaper.  I looked at him.  “I might be willing to speak later.  Another day.”

He moved.  “Have a happy day, my lady.”  I almost didn’t catch it, it was so soft, but I nodded and went into the Chantry.  I was halfway to Josie’s in the Chantry when I realized what he said.  Was my happy today because of him?  I’d gone to bed so conflicted.  I almost marched back out there, but I knew he’d be gone.  Asshole.

Well, I continued to Josie’s.  She was very politely conversing with Mother Giselle about something.  VERY politely.  Oh my god that was hilarious.  “I understand your needs, Mother Giselle.  The Inquisition will do everything it can to make sure the refugees are comfortable.”

“Perhaps you haven’t considered everything they might need, Ambassador.  The Sisters could give you a list.”

“We’ve already received several lists from the Sisters.  We will ensure that they get the attention they deserve.”

I cleared my throat.  That last one was HARSH for Josie.  “Lady Chrysopal!” Josie exclaimed.  “Excuse me, Mother Giselle.  My next appointment has arrived.”

“Of course, Ambassador.”

Josie led me into her office, shut the door, and leaned against it.  “Thank you for showing up, Crissy.  I’d been talking in circles with her for ages.  Did you need something?”

“Nope.  I have a gift.  Harritt and the guys worked it up from an idea we all had.”  I held out the box.

“A gift!”  She practically vibrated.  “Oh my, and I have nothing for you.”

“Just open it.”

She pulled the ribbon and opened the box.  In a bed of washed cotton fluff was another silver pen.  She smiled, but she obviously didn’t have any clue.  “It’s beautiful!”

“May I?” I asked.  She held the box out.  I unscrewed the cap, leaned over a spare sheet of paper, and wrote “It’s a fountain pen.” 

Her eyes got wide.  I handed it back to her, and she ran it along the paper in swirls.  “It is so smooth!  It’s not scratchy at all!”

“There’s an ink cartridge inside that has to be refilled, but it should last much longer without dipping.  Once you get used to it, you’ll see that there are almost no drips or splotches, either.  And the best part?  You never have to trim the tip.”

“It’s called a fountain pen?”  I nodded. 

“We have them back home.  Well, now we use ballpoint pens, but we don’t have the facilities to create those here.  And you guys don’t have plastic.”  She looked confused.  “Never mind.  Enjoy the pen.  Adan has the special ink to refill it, and there’s two vials of it in the box.”  I showed her how to take it apart and put it together, and she was still playing with it when I left.

I checked on the rest of my people.  I was starting to become worried that nothing had gone wrong in so long.  I asked Elias about it when we left the scullery.  “The soldiers are patrolling.  We’re going in groups.  Haven’s learning.  Minor hurts have disappeared before we could report them.” Solas.  Grr.  “It all adds up.  Apparently the Herald has made Cullen personally responsible if Haven’s streets are unsafe.”  Well, looks like I need to see Cullen.

I wandered down to where the Commander was usually found, and found Cassandra instead.  I stopped short, because I had no clue what to say to her.  She just looked at me for a few moments as well.  I dipped into a curtsy.  “Greetings, Lady Cassandra.”

“Greetings.  Chrysopal, correct?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Why are you here?”

“I’m looking for Commander Cullen.”

“No.  Why are you here.  At Haven.”

“Because this is where I woke up.” 

She looked curious at that.  For just a moment.  “They say you lead the elves.”

“I do not.  I merely do my best to protect them.”  Elias moved closer to me.

“You speak in circles.”

“I’m sorry, my lady.  I make sense to me.  Have a beautiful day.”

“I am not done.”

“But I am, my lady.  Unless I am to be arrested, may I continue?”  I started to move off.

She made that noise.  “You are not under arrest.  Why does everyone think I’m going to arrest them?  I wanted to talk to you.”

I stopped.  “What did you want to talk about, Lady Cassandra?  I have no books to stab.”

“Varric.”  She practically growled that.  “It was only ONE book.  I do not stab books.  Generally.  It is no matter.”  She drew a breath.  “A large portion of the structure of the inquisition, not the soldiers and decision makers, but the household itself, looks to you.  You are functioning as a Chatelaine, in many ways.  You have influence over the food, the linens, clean clothing.  I wished to know you.”

“I’m no Chatelaine.  I don’t have that training.  Wait, you think of the Inquisition as a household?”

“In some ways, yes.”

“That’s very interesting.  I see it as a large family.  Perhaps it is similar.  Without someone doing the dirty jobs, things would fall apart.”

She nodded.  This Lady is so self-contained sometimes.  It’s hard to read her. “What I wanted to say was, everything is working.  The things few think about are getting done, well and quickly.”

I went out on a limb.  “You were trained to run a household.  Before you did the Seeker thing, you were being trained to be a noble lady wife and to run a castle.”

She nodded again.  “I was.  I see the signs of something well run.  You are at least part of that.”

“The Inquisition wouldn’t exist at all without you, Lady Seeker.”  I thought about it for a moment.  “The Inquisition has a chance to change the face of Thedas.  Perhaps it can even show that we elves and servants deserve safety and respect.”  By her pensive face, we were done talking.  We exchanged mild pleasantries, and I took my leave.  Two steps back, turn.   So that’s the Lady Seeker.  And they call me a puzzle.  I’ll talk to Cullen another day.

I went back to Ethelathe and finished my paperwork.  School, dinner, singing.  Almost 50 voices now.  It gives me chills.  In a good way. 

Afterwords, I asked that everyone chip in to clear the firebombs away from Adan’s hut.  They agreed.  He’s one of us.  So, fifty elves swarmed the place and we moved the jars to the field that’s RIGHT THERE.  Well, they moved.  I’m still grounded.  Oddly, Solas pitched in.  Probably because the jars are dangerous and next to his house, too, but maybe he’s growing a heart.

Good night, my darling girl.  Be good.  7 days.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you don't know what a large room of voices singing "We Shall Overcome" sounds like, check out this video: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aX3IwWn-d9U


	66. Day 57, Drakonis 28, 9:41 Dragon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Talking with the Egg, thanking Cullen (and teasing), exploring the threads again and the changes therein.

Day 57, Drakonis 28, 9:41 Dragon:

Last night I had quiet dreams.  I seem to be spending a lot of time dreaming of the scenery of home.  One moon, grey, one milky way.  I miss only seeing one moon.  It’s never really DARK here.  Not like when the moon is new and all you see are fields of stars.  I was laying in my field of flowers watching the sky when he sat down.  “I’ve never seen a sky like that.”

“That doesn’t surprise me,” I responded.  “I’m still mad at you.”

“I know.”

“Why, Solas?”

“It seemed a perfect opportunity.”

“People shouldn’t see others’ pain as opportunities.  That’s sadistic.”  I didn’t look at him.  I was busy watching my sky.

“I hadn’t intended you being in pain much at all.  I just needed time.”

“You didn’t get it.”

“No.  I did not.”

“I notice you’re not apologizing.”

“I have already apologized.”

“The spiel about spirit and body being separate, and that’s why I couldn’t heal.  I believed that for about half a day. You’re a convincing liar.”

“It’s a skill, like any other.  I’m surprised you didn’t believe it longer.”

“I hope I never develop that skill.  And I know myself and what I am too well.”  This man never fidgets.  That’s so weird.

“You deceive, in your way.”

“Do I?” I glanced at him.

“I’ve never seen a sky like that.”

“As I said, that doesn’t surprise me.  How is that deceiving?”  I was curious.

“You don’t say where you’ve seen it.”

“You didn’t ask.”  He made a small noise of frustration, but I continued.  “You never ask.  You never think you might learn something you don’t already know.”

“That is not so.”

“And you still haven’t asked.”

“Fine.  From where is that sky?”

“This is the sky over my home.”

“An answer with no meaning.”

I shook my head.  “It has meaning.  It’s entirely accurate.  Maybe you just don’t ask the right questions.  Maybe you could have asked follow-on questions.  You’ve made assumptions that may be wrong.  But you won’t see that.  Not yet.  Maybe not ever.”  I sighed.  “I am not a child waiting at your knee for pearls of wisdom.  Thank you for helping us do the grunt work of moving those flasks.  I certainly never thought to see you lifting and carrying anything.  Your bearing is regal for someone who dresses in near rags.”

“That is not a question.”

“No, it is not.  It wasn’t supposed to be.  It was a comment.”

“You have no questions?”  He seemed surprised.

“Not right now.  Now the polite thing to do would have been to acknowledge my thanks, but I’m thinking you are sort of new to interpersonal relationships with people you aren’t currently sneering at or looking down upon.  I’ll consider giving you a chance to prove me wrong.”  I stood up, and held a hand out to help him up.  He looked at it.  I put it down.  “Fine, get up on your own.  But I would like to be alone now.  Please.”

He held up a hand.  I grasped it and pulled.  Once he was standing, he dusted himself off with his other hand, keeping mine.  “I see you like the flowers.”

“They’re pretty, and they smell nice.  I like them a lot.  That’s why they’re still here.”  I tugged at my hand and he let go.

“We call them Queen Asha’s Lace in the modern age,” he said, and looked at me for a moment.  He started to explain who Queen Asha Subira Bahadur was but I just looked at him, crossing my arms.  I just LOVE getting lectures I haven’t asked for on subjects I’ve not expressed an interest in.  I must have looked it.  If only sarcasm could REALLY drip from my gaze in the fade.  Maybe I’ll try that some time.  He cut off mid-word, noticing my expression.  He sighed, and started over.  “We call them Queen Asha’s Lace in the modern age.  And yes, they smell lovely.  Enjoy them, and enjoy your evening, Chrysopal.”  And with a strange smile, he was gone.  Just Poof.  Why can’t I do that?

I laid back down.  I had a lot of thinking to do.  Circles, puzzles.  Too many ifs, and too many directions to go in.

I woke refreshed, but without any great revelations.  I’m still mad at him, but not as much.  I really don’t want to leave while at odds with anyone. I took a few moments to organize my things.  My “go” bag, like the others’ bags, is getting a bit bigger.  3 tunics, 2 leggings, 2 dresses. My yarn stuff and a blanket. I wrapped my journal in a towel, invisible as it was, and put it in the bag.  I needed to keep it with me, soon, and I don’t want that falling into the wrong hands or being buried.  If I was leaving, then no one would be able to read it except Solas or one of the mages.  Solas would likely claim my pack, somehow, so he’d be the one to read it.  I wouldn’t be here to worry about it.  His secret would remain so.

I hadn’t gotten dirty, so I wore the same outfit as yesterday.  The wind was high today, and it smelled like rain.  I’m going to have to look into getting oiled cloth to make ponchos for everyone.  I’m sure someone has already thought of it, but I mentioned it to Eadras anyway.

Breakfast of sausages on the fire outside was wonderful.  We all kind of ate together.  Gunther and the other guy thanked me for letting them move in.  “Any friend of Andrew’s is a friend of mine, so long as that friend behaves,” I said.  “There are some rules.  The golden rule, for one.”

“Golden rule?”

“Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.  Also, respect other people’s property and space.  If I even think you’re using any particular abilities on anyone here without sanction, you will be ejected with prejudice.  I’m still a bit angry at your order.”

Andrew chimed in.  “She survived a full annulment, Gunny, remember?  And was up and walking in hours.  Chrissy, Gun and Chris didn’t do it.”

Garalen spoke up.  "She was actually up within minutes."  All three Templars swiveled their heads to look at her, then at me.

"Minutes?" Gunther asked.

"Yes.  Minutes.  And don't try it again."  She glowered at them.

“Garalen, hush.  Andrew, I’d assumed they weren't the participants, but now there are three of you here.  You understand my caution.”

I must have looked like I needed a hug, because Andrew pulled me into his arms.  “None of my friends are going to hurt you like that.  They’ll have to get through me.”  Gunther and Chris both agreed that they’d not do such a thing.

Garalen glared.  “I am her knife in the dark.  They will regret it if they hurt her.”  I’m thinking that phrase means something in particular.  It’s not the first time she’s used it like an oath.

“Enough.  Talk to Eadras if you need something, Gunther, Chris.  Andrew you can show them where everything is.  Be warned.  I have a bad feeling about things.  We’re keeping our go bags close.  If there is a party in Haven, we will be leaving Ethelathe empty of everything and everyone we care about.  It’s not something I can articulate, but we might need your help.  Here, you are not Templars to be coddled.  You’re family.”

They all three laughed at me.  We did school.  I did some paperwork.  And went for my daily fix. Cullen was about, so I caught his attention.  “Hello Chrissy.  How can I help you?” he asked.

“Actually, I’m here to thank you.  I’ve been told you’re keeping the streets of Haven safe for me and mine.  You’ve taken personal responsibility for our safety, from what I understand.  You don’t have to do that.”

“I don’t.  But it needs doing.  I appreciate your thanks, but they’re unnecessary.  People should expect their streets to be safe.”  I looked around in an obvious fashion.  “What?”

“I was looking for snow, but there’s none to be had.  You desperately need a dunking in snow.”

“No, there’s not.  And I do not.”  He shook his head.  “You’re trouble.”

“Am not.”

“You are.”

“Am not.”

“You are.”  He looked confused that I was arguing with him.

Cassandra looked up.  “Commander, are you arguing like a child with Chrysopal?”

He rubbed the back of his neck.  “Maker’s breath.”

I looked at Cassie with a grin.  “It’s so easy.”  She struggled to keep a straight face for a moment before regaining control.

“I’m sure the Commander is very busy, Chrysopal.”

“It’s Chrissy, and he needs a distraction.  He works too hard.  Do I distract you, Commander?”  I added that last in my sweetest voice.

He just muttered “Trouble” as he went back to his men.

“See you later, Lady Seeker,” I called as I headed about my rounds.

Garalen told me I was mean again.  I told her he was wound so tight he was going to crack if he wasn’t careful.  We agreed to disagree.  I waved at the Chargers, checked in with Harritt and the guys, and headed up toward Seggrit.  He was in his usual spot, and waved me over.  He handed a pink swathe of cloth to me.  “This is a bit big for a remnant, Seggrit.”

“Hey, I don’t determine the market.  I just react to it.  This particular shade of pink is not selling, but would,” he paused.  “Alright.  I thought Leorah might make something nice for Mika.  Like a dress.  Or something.”

I grinned at him.  “I’ll make sure she knows.  You two are cute together.”

“Wish her parents thought so.”

“I’m sure it’ll work out, my friend.”

I passed Varric as I headed up.  “No kiss for me today, Cuddles?”

“Nope.  Yesterday was kisses day.  Today is kicks.  Want one?” He just laughed and waved me on.

The Chantry board said “I stopped, at your request.”  I replaced it with.  “Good.  I finally have a question.”  I figured I’d ask him about the nearbeer thing.  Maybe if he can heal all my people, he can lower the alcohol content of all the drinks, too.  Or figure out a better way.

I delivered the fabric and the request to Leorah, who said she’d handle it.  After that I went home.  Paperwork.  Lots of it.  And we moved a lot of our “extra” supplies out to the side of the Chantry today.  Nothing to mediate today.  That’s good.

Anyway, it was the cutest thing.  After dinner, the Templars and the children played some sort of game with a ball.  I didn’t get the rules, but it involved kicking the ball and tackling, but wasn’t rugby.  Out of curiosity, I did a head count.  Did you know we’re almost two-thirds female out here?  If you include my humans, we’re nearly half and half.  Most of my humans are boys, most of my elves are girls.  Interesting, if nothing else.  Do female elves outnumber male elves in general?  Inquiring minds might just ask.

I went up to my nook.  I hadn’t been there in a while.  I took some breaths.  I hadn’t realized how itchy I’d gotten, but it’s gone now.  Calm, peace, and the runners high.  I LOOKED at my people.  My connections were stronger.  The people were brighter.  Interesting, I had two lines that stretched off to the west.  Maybe Bull and Inquisibabe?  One was fairly in place, the other quite wispy.  There was also a very wispy connection in the direction of Solas’ cottage.  Forming a bond naturally?  How plebian. It was probably the wispiest connection I’ve SEEN, but it was there. 

I ran my fingers over the threads. The connections lit up so I could see everything.  It went beyond a series of lines to me.  It was truly a web.  Lots of interconnections, and I was glad to see it.  Maybe they’ll be okay.  Cook, Harritt, and Hannah formed sort of mini-hubs with their people, Leorah was a minihub all on her own.  Garalen actually had a tie to me!  I’d thought that she wasn’t really one of mine.  It was shockingly strong, but it hadn’t been there before the Payday From Hell.  The change is astounding, in general.  Either I’m better at this, so I can see more than I did, or there are more connections than there were.  Somehow, I think I’m just seeing more.  There aren’t any connections I wouldn’t have expected, except Egghead.

Eadras showed up shortly thereafter.  “You forgot to tell anyone you were leaving, Da’len.  Please remember we worry.”  I apologized.  He was right.  We couldn’t just run off without worrying people.  There’d been too much fear recently.  He escorted me back to Ethelathe.

I’m writing this, and then I’m tucking it back in my go bag.  6 days until crunch time.  One way or the other.  I miss you, my little love.  So very much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> He filled her place with Queen Anne's Lace, apparently Queen Asha's Lace there. "Queen Anne's Lace symbolizes a haven or sanctuary. It signifies complexity and delicateness." Very appropriate on several levels. She doesn't know about flower language the way she knows about crystal uses.


	67. Day 58, Drakonis 29, 9:41 Dragon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mages arrive. EARLY! Nearbeering because Solas spends too much time thinking. Crunch time closing in.

Day 58, Drakonis 29, 9:41 Dragon:

The day got pretty exciting toward the end, but I’ll start at the beginning.  My dreams were much of the same.  Actually had a despair demon visit me for the first time.  Kept telling me that it could send me home, saying all sorts of really wonderful things about my daughter.  It could do wondrous things, I’d never be lonely again, etc.  If this is the best demons can do?  It must take a fairly weak-willed mage to give in. Honestly, I kind of thought that in DA2, during that one scene where all the companions betray you, too.  Well, on each playthrough you could get a different one to betray you, but anyway.  It showed me images of home I’d forgotten, but I knew they came from my own mind.  Eventually, I said “Look, the slideshow is nice and all, but you’re not really living up to my expectations.”  I thought I was nice about it, but apparently not.  So that’s how I ended up consoling a despair demon in despair over being a bad despair demon when Solas showed up.

“What are you DOING?”

“Hush, Solas.”  I gave the despair demon a few more pats and sent it on its way, telling it that I was sure it’d do better next time.  In someone else’s dream.

“I have never” and there I interrupted.

“What, just because it’s a demon I should ignore its pain?”

He was silent a moment.  He should try that more.  “You do things.  Things that are just not natural.  Who consoles a despair demon?”

“Well, obviously, I do.  It only needed someone to commiserate with it.  Maybe it’ll grow out of being in despair and choose something else.”

“Spirits, that I understand.  They are what they are.  But you, and DEMONS?”

“Demons are just spirits, Solas.  You know that.”

“You have NO TRAINING!”

“How do you know? And don’t yell at me.  I’m still mad at you.”  I may have huffed.  And yes, I might have channeled Cole with that first phrase.

He muttered a whole bunch under his breath.  Sounded like cursing, in elvish.  He stopped.  “Why is a despair demon visiting your dreams?”

“Oh, we’re asking personal questions now?”

He opened his mouth, then closed it.  “No.  We are not.  You had a question?”  Hmmm.  Smarter than I thought.

“Do you know an easier way to weaken large amounts of alcohol than by evaporating the individual alcohol molecules and starving the yeast within, should any remain?  And how far away do you think someone could be when they did it?”  That was clearly not what he expected me to ask.

“What, pray tell, is a molecule?”

“The smallest unit of a substance, where if you broke it further, it would become something else.”  He took a moment to process that.

“I will have to think on this.”

“Fine.  I need to do something before the mages arrive to seal the breach, though.  Can't risk having the party without it.”

“What party?”

“Do you REALLY think there’s not going to be a party if they manage to seal the breach?  Do you never think ahead?  And parties mean drunk people.  Drunk people get handsy and aggressive.  If I’m going to reduce the handsiness and aggressiveness of drunks, the easiest way is to reduce the alcohol consumed.  It’ll help with the hangovers later, too.”  Taking Egghead by surprise is always a joy.  I sighed.  “Solas, who do you think is the easiest target to a large human male drunk who feels like getting frisky?  Elven girls.  We’re practically invisible and perceived as a political underclass.  And they outweigh us by double, and they’re a foot taller.”

“Have you had this problem, Chrissy?”  His face was perfectly smooth and his eyes are almost glowy again.  He really needs to watch himself when he’s upset.  He gives himself away.

All I could think for a moment was “Oh, dear.  That’s not a good voice.”  Aloud, I said, “Not around here.  But I’m not taking chances after what happened to Tanya and Feren.  If you can’t manage, that’s fine.  I’ll figure it out myself, or just test my own range.  See you later, Solas.”  I placed my hand in the middle of his back and pushed him all the way to my door, and through.  I was fairly gentle.  I think he went along with it because he was surprised.  “I need to think, so have a good evening.”  And shut the door in his quite astonished face. 

Love making him have actual expressions.  Not only was it the first time I’d ever touched him instead of allowing him to touch me, I’d shoved him out of my fade space.  It won’t really keep him out, but he’s pretending to be polite recently, so he may stay out.  He didn’t visit for the rest of the night, anyway.

I woke up refreshed.  I knew Solas wasn’t healing anymore because I’d slept wrong on my arm.  It was sore.  I moved it a bit before it felt better, but it’s twingy.  Is it weird that I was happy about that?

Anyway, just after breakfast, Dennet and the stable guys, including Gethon, took ALL the horses with several soldiers, including the Commander, and headed down the mountain.  I was stupid and didn’t realize why at the time.  I figured it was some sort of exercise detail.  I did my paperwork, dealt with some minor squabbles, and headed up to the tavern for lunch.

Varric waved me over.  Sera was nowhere to be seen.  “Did you hear?  They’re coming back with the mages.  All the mages.  Turns out the King gave them something like thirty minutes to get off his land.”  That’s not how I remember it, but Storyteller likes to embellish.

My mind started thinking logistics.  “Who can pack in thirty minutes!  They’re going to need stuff.  Do we have enough blankets?  Food?  Where are they going to sleep?  I’d better go.”

“Sit down, Cuddles.  The Sisters are handling this.  You need to eat.”  I’d been getting up, but he grabbed my arm and pulled me down next to him.

“Uncle Harritt took your nickname and changed it.  He’s calling me Cuddle Bug.”

“That’s a good one, but I like Cuddles.  So is today a kiss day or a kick day?”

“Neither.  Today’s a tickle day. Are you ticklish, Storyteller?”

“Me?  No.  But I bet you are.”

“You come anywhere near my ribs and I’ll pull out your chest hair.”

“Hands off the ribs.  Got it.  Can’t have anyone mess with this handsome thatch of manliness.  Unless you want to play with it.”  He leaned back and looked smug.  “You want to play with it, don’t you?”

“Of course I want to play with it!  I’ll take a handful home and play with it tonight, okay?”

“You are a cruel woman, Cuddles.”  He shook his head, laughing.

We had our lunches.  No meat pies today.  When I stopped in to see Cook, she was in a bit of a tizzy regarding the extra mouths.  A hundred people within a few days.  I told her that we’d find a way.  She could just feed them go rations from the beginning.  We have enough of those.  And they might be bringing supplies with them. She calmed a bit, and planned a stew for dinner.  That can be made into a soup or just expanded quickly.  They got to baking bread, too.  Worse case, the bread would be fit for bread bowls by the time the mages arrived.  Best, it would be fresh for sandwiches and such.

It was midafternoon when a huge bedraggled group rode into Haven.  There were tons of tired people in robes, and children as young as seven riding in the carts.  Lots of shouting, to be sure.  Haven seemed to double in size in minutes.  They set up tents in the old Templar field.  Interesting.  Some went up to the chantry.  There were kids placed in the youth barracks.  If there was spare floor, it was probably taken up.  They were fed soup and bread, and nearly everyone went to sleep immediately.  They had very little for belongings. 

Probably a quarter of them were elves, but they didn’t really feel right.  Only one, literally only ONE of these mages felt “right”.  And OH MY GOD I ITCHED.  We were only about halfway done with getting them settled in when I sought out Eadras.  I HAD to leave.  It was awful.  I can’t even describe it.  Garalen and Elias were designated to get me out of there.  I went up to Druffalo Bluff.

It was there that after breathing the itch out I decided to try to enforce a nearbeer on the tavern and the new carts.  I warned Garalen that I was going to try something, and she ran to get my Templars while Elias stayed with me.  All three.  Why all three?  Damned if I know.  Anyway, I figured there was no way we were going to get a shipment of alcohol in the next day or two, so I could safely do this now.  Solas was “thinking” about it.  Wasting time, more like.

Anyway, I was much better out here.  I always am, away from everyone.  Andrew and Garalen and everyone kept away from the bluff.  I stood up and looked out over Haven.  You really could see just about the whole place. Most of the new mages were asleep, exhausted.  I couldn’t feel them, but I could see some of them, brighter than others.  None so bright as Andrew or Solas save that one mage that felt right.  He was a little less bright than Andrew, but brighter than everyone else that came in. 

I had all this itchy, and I needed it GONE, so I used it.  I thought hard about what I wanted, and let the glowy mist flow over the places I wanted to affect.  Then I TWISTED, evaporating a lot of the alcohol in range.  I left some, until it “felt” right.  I’m fairly sure it worked.  Regrettably, I also saw Egghead come out of his hut, where he’d been hiding, and stare across the lake.  Apparently I have enough range for him to feel it.  And standing on Druffalo Bluff didn’t exactly make me inconspicuous.  The really sad part is that I’d forgotten how it felt to really stretch that “muscle”.  I’d been being good for too long.  Andrew saw me fading and got to me before I lost my balance.  The last thing I really remembered for a time was him grabbing me.

I didn’t quite pass out, but I was HELLA dizzy.  The whole world was spinning, spinning, pretty.  Smart Templar boy took me to my nook instead of the cottage.  It took probably half an hour to feel better this time, but all that horrible itching was gone.  I felt like me again.  It wasn’t until then that I realized I was NOT looking forward to Yet Another Lecture on why I can’t do what I just did.  Damn.

When I was back to myself, I realized that Gunther and Chris were both staring at me in awe.  “You don’t feel like a mage, until you DO something.”  Gunther breathed.

“Andrew said that, too.  At any given time, I don’t feel like a mage.  So I guess I’m not one.”  I smiled at them.

“What’d you do?” asked Chris.

“If everything went right, I drastically reduced the alcohol content of every beverage in Haven.  That makes all the elves safer, when they finally seal that breach.”

“I’m not doubting you, but why?”

“As I explained to someone else just this morning, who do you think drunk human men feeling frisky like to play with?  Elven women.  We’re darn near invisible, we have no political power, and we’re half your size, so we’re easy prey with few potential repercussions.”  Chris had obviously never considered this.  He didn’t look so good.  “Don’t worry about it.  We’ll see if it helped.”

I couldn’t tell them the other reason.  Fighters needed to be aware and not drunk for when Coryphyphace arrived.  I decided I would check on Inquisibabe tomorrow.  I knew he’d need some TLC, but I just couldn’t go back into Haven tonight.  If this was Valdemar, I’d say the mages’ shields were leaking. 

We had dinner at home, everyone tired.  Skipped lessons.  Did the singalong, because everyone expects it now.  Even if I don’t pull out the guitar, someone starts the song right before bed.  It’s like a nighttime prayer ritual.  And it’s the perfect way to calm before sleep.  Anyway, I’d bet the mages are going to rest tomorrow.  And close the breach the next day?  My timeline was three days off.  Or so. 

Goodnight, dear girl.  Cross your fingers that Mommy’s coming home.


	68. Day 59, Drakonis 30, 9:41 Dragon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hug day, meeting Dorian, and cuddling with Inquisibabe.

Day 59, Drakonis 30, 9:41 Dragon:

I was expecting to see him last night, but my dreams were just dreams.  I’d also half expected to see another demon, but nobody showed up at all.  It occurred to me that I’d been having all these interactions with him, but nobody knows it.  Last time Ethelathe saw me talk to him, I said I’d prefer poison to his touch.  I decided to tell Garalen about our midnight conversations. 

Leorah set out my day’s clothing.  Apparently I’m wearing the blue dress again.  And the vest.  I think she’s one of the few I trust to go through my bag.  I checked with the Ethelathe watch.  Had they heard whether the mages were going to rest or were they going to attempt the breach today?  He said that they were probably going to rest today.  Thanking him, I went out in search of Andrew.  He was like me, and I had been so focused on mages that I’d forgotten that.

I found Gunther and Chris first.  You know, it occurs to me that very few people touch me at all, unless it’s absolutely necessary.  The Tweedles and Daniel, Leorah, Eadras, Harritt and the guys. Inquisibabe tends to.  That’s about it.  Anyway, both guys stood respectfully.  They are wary of me today instead of open and friendly like before.  I eyed them.  “Are we going to do this?”

They looked at each other.  “Do what?” asked Gun.

“You’re acting like I have the plague.  What did I do that you’re scared of me?  Terrified of a girl half your weight now?  And I thought you were almighty Templars.”

They looked at each other again.  “Well, what do you want?” This time it was Chris.

“This morning, I want a hug.  I have a running joke with Storyteller.  You’ve missed kisses day, so you can stew over that.  You’ve also missed Kicks and tickles.  Which you may or may not like.  But today.  Today is hugs day, and I want some.”  I shocked them into laughter.  And got my hugs.  Tentative, but at least they’re not acting terrified anymore.  “Now, where’s Andrew?  I’d like to talk with him.”

They pointed off.  “He gets up with the chickens.”  I thanked them and headed off.  Ethelathe was waking up, and it would be breakfast time soon.

Andrew was doing calisthenics, so I was loathe to interrupt him.  He spotted me, though, and grabbed a towel.  If he wasn’t taken, hmmm.  Not to keep, but goodness, he’d be nice to play with.  UGH.  My hormones had to pick now to wake up.  I shook myself a bit.  “Hey, dude.  I wanted to ask you a question or two.”

“Shoot.”  He’s been waiting to use that.  I can tell.

“When you’re around mages, does it itch like crazy?”

“Yeah, why?”

“How do you stop that?”

“I just sort of push it off me.  I’m not entirely sure.  It was easier with practice.”

“I have to go into town, and it itches.  Could you show me what you do?  Please?”

“How?”

“Just... Do it.  Now.  So I can see.  Please?”

I LOOKED at him.  “Fine, Chrissy.”  He took a deep breath.  The swirly glowy dust sort of backed up away from him.  There was a fingerlength space from his SELF with no contact with that stuff. 

“That’s what you do?  That’s so cool!  Hey, can you move the swirly dust around in other ways?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Because that means you’re a mage in the same way I am.”

He stiffened.  “I am not.”

“Bet you are.  Either that or I’m the same kind of Templar you are.  I work by moving the swirly dust about and sort of twisting it and pulling it into doing what I want.”

“I can’t do the twisting thing, but I can move it about.  If you move all the dust away from a mage, they weaken.  It doesn’t stop them, because there are other ways, but it does help.”  I filed that away for the future.  Answers had been RIGHT THERE the whole time!  I was almost giddy.  It was hug day, so I hugged him.  “Whoah, what was that for?”

“It’s hug day!” I answered, as I headed off.  I practiced keeping the glowy dust a very small distance from my SELF all through breakfast.  It wasn’t hard, but took up a small amount of concentration.  But it was working.  Even here, I had been able to feel a bit of itchy.  Now it was down to almost nothing.  Hug day turned into a thing.  Everyone hugged everyone.  At least if I leave tomorrow, I’ve given them all hugs.

After breakfast, I told the boys I wasn’t doing school today, so as far as I was concerned they could play in the fields.  They were to listen to Cara and run to the Chantry with their go bags if anything happened.  I’d find them there.  They nodded.

I stopped for my daily fix of sweaty men.  I decided to sit down on the mostly-completed trebuchet.  The others were done.  That hurt my heart a bit, but hey, sweaty men.  Krem and The Iron Bull were also watching them exercise.  They wended their way over to me.  I smiled at Krem.  “Let me guess, they’re not bad, but they need help with their footwork?”

He smiled back.  “Nah.  Boss likes to watch them sweat on each other.”  I laughed.  After a few minutes, I got back up.  I had to see Sam, so I bid them adieu and headed up the stairs. 

I knocked on Inquisibabe’s door.  He opened it a few minutes later.  He looked awful.  “Chrissy.  I’m not really in the mood for visitors.”

“It’s hug day, Sam.  And you need one.”  I reached up and wrapped my arms around his neck.  He didn’t do anything at first, but a moment later, his arms closed and he hugged me back.  After another few moments, I leaned back and patted his cheek.  “You need to talk, sweeting.  Let’s go inside and scandalize everyone.”

He let go of me and we moved inside.  I sat down next to him on the bed.  (No chairs in inquisibabe’s hut?  Weird.)  I picked up his unmarked hand and held it between my own.  “I’ll start.  You went to Redcliffe.  Something was horribly wrong.  Magic you didn’t understand scared the hell out of you.  You saw things that terrified you, and now you fear that something bad that happened will happen again.  Am I close?” 

He looked at me in awe.  “That’s exactly right.  That’s EXACTLY right!  How’d you know?”

“I don’t ‘know’, Sam.  I was making an estimation based on what I know of Thedas and your reactions and appearance.  Now you’ve been really busy with the mages the last day or two.  You haven’t had time to process, to talk, to get it out.  Would you like to?”

“You wouldn’t mind?”  Such a small voice.  I repositioned myself on the bed so I was leaning against the pillows and the headboard.

“Come here, Sam.”  I held my arms out again, and he laid his head on my belly, wrapping his arms around my middle.  I stroked his hair as he told me everything.  He slept, exhausted, after he let it all out, and I escaped.  Most of the day was done. 

I made sure to go give Varric a hug.  It was hug day after all.  Surprised Sera with one, too. Made my way up to where Dorian stays.  Solas wasn’t around.  I looked at Dorian.  “You are probably the prettiest man I’ve ever seen.”

“Of course I am.  And quite charming as well.  How do you do, my dear.”

“How do I do what?” I asked it in my most innocent voice.

He laughed.  “Charming.  And did you have a reason for braving the Tevinter Magister?”

“Pfft.  Altus at best.  Too flashy.  And yes.  Today is hug day.  If you’d like one, you may have one.”  Surprising Dorian is more beautiful than I expected.

“Well, who am I to argue with hug day?”  I gave him a quick hug, which he returned just as briefly. 

“Have a lovely evening, Altus.”

“You as well, my dear.”  He was smiling.  That’s good.

I ran into the Chantry and told Josie about hug day.  We exchanged hugs and she thanked me again for the pen.  I told her to make sure she thanked Harritt and the guys.  They’d made it just for her.

I checked the board.  Because I had to.  It said, “You didn’t wait for an answer.”  I wrote, “Time ran out.  Think faster.”

I visited Harritt and Enborr and the others.  Enborr snatched me from the ground right away.  “Heard it was hug day, little bit.  Thought you’d forgot us.”

“Never.”  I hugged everyone and we chatted a bit.  They told me that the breach was going to be sealed the very next day.  The mages were settled, they’d had a day to recover from travel, and everyone wanted it done as fast as possible.  The Ambassador was planning an impromptu party to celebrate, just in case.  As an aside, how do you PLAN an IMPROMPTU party?  Never mind.  I discovered Elias waiting for me as I left.  And here I’d thought I’d spent the day with no guard.

We did dinner and skipped school in favor of a tickle fight.  I told everyone I wanted to head up to Druffalo Bluff.  They let me go.  It’s close enough they could hear me if they needed to.  I stood there on the bluff, looking out at Haven.  If I was right, it wouldn’t be here this time tomorrow.  I was going to miss this place, and I needed a moment to grieve.  The strains of “We Shall Overcome” reached me from Ethelathe.  Such bittersweet feelings.

I was climbing down the bluff when I spotted a certain Egghead mage.  “Yes, Solas?”

“Today was hug day?”  He tilted his head slightly.

“It was.”

“I didn’t get one.”  What?

“You don’t touch people.  I assumed you wouldn’t want one.  Also, I am not entirely comfortable with hugging potential enemies.”

“I am not your enemy.  Quite the contrary.”

“You’re going to harp on this.  Why are you really here?”

“You spent the day in the Herald’s cottage.”

“He needed to talk.”

“I see.  He is one of yours.”

“He is.”

“May I have a hug as well, Chrysopal?”  What’s his game?  I studied him silently for a bit.

“Very well.”  I reached up and gave him a quick hug.  He’s taller than other elves, and larger built.  It’s like the difference between Uncle Enborr and Storyteller.  I let go and now I’m writing this down.  I’d never considered that Solas might want a hug.  I guess everyone craves a little “human interaction” now and again.

Good night, baby.  I just might see you tomorrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you're wondering, yes, Inquisibabe just fell sucker to cold reading techniques.


	69. Day 61, Some month I don’t frickin know 2, 9:41 Dragon, part one

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Once more into the fray, and the breach closes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Be patient with me, please. This is EXTREMELY hard to write without crying. And then I can't see, so I don't type well, and it snowballs.

Day 61, Some month I don’t frickin know 2, 9:41 Dragon:

I didn’t.  I couldn’t update yesterday.  So I’ll be talking about two days.  I’ve decided I’ll try to keep this going, for my own sanity.  For a record.  And just in case I someday get home.  If you’ve not guessed, the breach is closed.  The mages managed to get it done.  Halle-Frickin-lujah.  You probably want the details.  So I’ll start at the beginning.

My dreams on the night of day 59 were troubled.  I saw the Templars suppressing the breach, then the mages channeling power, switching back and forth.  The different options, I suppose.  I saw my people dying in the fires, and then being saved by Inquisibabe.  I saw Stephen, that orphan boy, trapped in the healer’s cottage.  No one got him.  In that timeline.  But I’ll get to that.  I finally heard the whispers of the despair demon.  It was a different one, a different voice.  But the outcome was the same.  I knew that no matter what I saw, nothing could change the outcome.  This was a better despair demon, but I still told it that it needed practice.  Apparently that’s a terrible thing to do to a despair demon, because it left crying.

I woke unrefreshed, as I am sure surprises no one.

I was supervising the movement of go bags and so on to the Chantry, along with everything spare, when Inquisibabe showed up at Ethelathe with Dorian and Solas in tow.  Everybody stilled.  Sam looked right at me.  “Chrissy, we need EVERY grown mage.”

I was suddenly VERY afraid.  I took a step back.  “The Templars said I wasn’t a mage.”

He kept looking at me.  He slowly held out his hand.  “Come on, honey.  We won’t let anything happen to you.”  I looked at Solas and Dorian.  Dorian looked interested and curious, but he was obviously unaware of what was going on.  Solas had sorrow in his gaze.  Did he sell me out?

I looked back at my people.  They were all still.  Finally, Eadras said, “Da’len, you have never refused to go where you were needed.  We will get all the preparations you wanted done.  Everything will be ready for you when you return.  I promise you.”

“Don’t forget to grab Stephen.  I don’t care if you have to tie the little hellion up, keep him with us.”

“It will be done, Ethelathun.”  Eadras actually bowed to me!  And Leorah curtsied, adding her own promises.  The others added their own reassurances.

Garalen geared up, along with Elias.  I looked back at Sam, who put his hand out again, and placed mine within it.  He switched my hand to his other, and wrapped his arm around my waist proprietarily to escort me forward.  I was not comfortable with this.  “You can let go of me.  I’m not going to run.”  He was holding too tight, trapping me.  “LET GO!”

Oddly, Solas came to my rescue, plucking me out of Sam’s arms and then setting me down, stepping back.  Making sure I had room to breathe.  Garalen and Elias flanked me.  Ethelathe was still again.  Sam looked shocked.  “I didn’t mean to scare you, Chrissy.”

“I’m fine, but I don’t like being manhandled without permission.  And I don’t like being trapped.  Ever.”

Dorian jumped in with both feet.  “Drat, and I thought it was my turn to manhandle the pretty elf.  I suppose I shall have to show Lord Trevelyan how escorting a lovely lady should be done.”  He held out his arm, and I took it, gratefully.  He’d diffused the situation and kept me away from both the other men.  Talented fellow.  Ethelathe relaxed, and Garalen took up position on Dorian’s other side.

We got to Dennet’s yard.  My next hurdle.  They had a horse for me.  I don’t know how to ride.  Truly I don’t.  I can curry, tack out, clean hooves, muck stalls, but I don’t ride.  I leaned my head closer to Dorian.  “I can’t ride.  I don’t know how.”  I said it fairly quietly.

“I presume you are in no mood to ride with our illustrious Herald of Andraste.”  He said it quietly, too.

“I’d prefer not.  Please.”

“Well then, you shall ride with me, and together we shall be the envy of everyone.”  He said that one a bit louder.  He slid gracefully into the saddle and lifted me to sit sideways in front of him.  Those muscles in the game weren’t inaccurate.  Most mages are soft, but not him.  He probably works out so he can preen for the gentlemen.

“I appreciate this, Altus.”

“Dorian Pavus, of House Pavus of Qarinus.  But you may call me Dorian.  If you’re going to be sitting in my lap for an hour, you can at least use my name.”

“I’m Chrysopal.  Chrissy, usually.  But Varric calls me Cuddles.”

He grinned.  “Cuddles seems most apropos at the moment.” 

“Interam rursum in pugnam, dear man.”  I don’t know much latin, but “Once more into the fray” was in a play in high school.

“At your service, my lady.”  The entire group got moving.  Garalen and Elias were on one horse, next to us.  As we went, he distracted me quite handily with interesting questions and non-personal conversation, starting with “I didn’t expect to hear a joke in my native tongue from an elven noble today.”  I say non-personal instead of impersonal because it was.  It wasn’t impersonal at all.  It was just not invasive of my personal history.  He did it very well. 

No, I wasn’t a noble.  They’d just adopted me.  Sort of.  I couldn’t explain it.  He said nobility could be more than birth.  The first nobles had to come from somewhere, after all.  No, I didn’t really speak Tevene, it was leftovers from mottos and slogans and sayings of my people.  I listed a few.  E pluribus Unum, Quis custodiet ipsos custodies, Semper Fideles, etc.  It had seemed like the thing to say in the situation.  I was complimented on my ability to use bits and pieces in such a unique fashion.  I told him that where I came from, the language was called Latin, and it was a phenological underpinning of most of the local languages, much like Antivan shared roots with Tevene.  We had a very interesting discussion regarding how languages changed over time, with phonetic morphing and changes in word meaning, yet keeping particular words and phrases immutable.  And then we reached the temple.

The first thing I want to mention is the smell.  Oh my god the smell.  I gagged.  The smell cut off abruptly, with Dorian saying he’d show me how to do that later.  (He probably did NOT want me to yack on him.)  They’d left the bodies.  The horrible people had left the bodies in place.  There were so many, I could sort of understand, but it’d been two months.  They could have at least built a funeral pyre or something.  Dorian was an angel.  He removed the smell, and I closed my eyes, my face pressed into his chest by one of his hands.  I was working hard to keep my breakfast down.

He kept a hand covering my head, holding it against him for the entire trip through the disaster zone.  Apparently I’m NOT good with battles and battlefields.  Go Navy.  Push a button from a mile away.  Drones FTW.  I’m keeping my ass home from now on.  Never again.  “Not yet,” he kept saying.  I think our dear Tevinter Magister has a hero streak a mile wide.  The horse stopped, and he slid down with me in his arms.  “No, I don’t think she needs to see this.  I’ll carry her,” vibrated through his chest. 

Sam tried to apologize to me.  “I’m sorry.  It never occurred to me that this would upset you.”  I didn’t look at him.  I wasn’t looking anywhere.  I could hear something singing.  WRONG singing.  Red lyrium?  It was creepy.  And the breach was here.  I could feel it.  It felt like home and like everything to avoid, all at the same time.

Solas chimed in with “You were told she had no experience with battlefields.”

Bitch-in-horns said, “Well, if she’s going to pretend to be a mage, then she’s going to have to learn to deal with such things.  She’s acting like a child.”  I didn’t say anything.

Egghead must have been about to say something, because Sam said, “No, Solas.  Enough, both of you. It’s my fault she’s here.  She said she wasn’t a mage.”

Dorian murmured something about people being oblivious and we moved forward.  The remains of the temple itself had been cleared out.  He put me down and told me it was safe to open my eyes.  There were still streaks of dried blood and other grisly bits, but no body parts here.  No decaying people.  Garalen and Elias took up positions beside me.  They’d come the whole way.  I hadn’t expected that for some reason.

I listened to the “inspirational words” put forth.  Yeah, that made NO sense.  Focus my power.  All I had was the glowy stuff.  And there was a LOT of that around here.  So I opened my SELF and LOOKED at what everyone else was doing.  Fools!  They were collecting the glowy stuff a little bit, but sort of internalizing it.  Then they were sending thin streams of their augmented personal energy at the Herald.  That wasn’t going to do very much, and he was faltering.  So I kind of gathered up all the glowy stuff I could reach, and shoved it down the thread I have connected to him.  Solas wheeled to look at me.  Did he FEEL that?

I kept gathering and shoving for the entire time, noticing that Solas was doing something similar on the other side of the temple.  He must have the same sort of connection with Sam that I do.  It took most of the glowy stuff in the area, and I could barely breath.  I was dizzy, and many of the mages were unconscious.  I thought about what Andrew had said about how to weaken a mage.  Oops.  The smell was back, and I lurched away from my babysitters, who were trying to support me, and lost my breakfast. 

My mind was racing.  All the power in the temple he could grab hadn’t been enough the first time.  He needed the internal energy of the mages themselves to power the mark on Sam’s mark enough for Sam to close the breach.  I was a bonus he wasn’t expecting, grabbing the other half of the temple’s glowy stuff he couldn’t reach.  Whatever, it worked.  I didn’t realize at that point what it meant.  I was STILL THERE.  Soldiers and the remaining Templars arrived.  They were collecting the unconscious mages, and discovered that four of the eighty-three mages present had died.  One of which was the bright spot I hadn’t taken the time to meet.  All I could think at the time was that I’d been so SELFISH.  I'd never even said hello. Did I kill them trying to gather the glowy stuff?

I looked over at Dorian, and he was gray.  Hehhe that’s funny.  Dorian Gray, the beautiful man in the painting.  There were still wisps of glowy stuff about, so I grasped one of his hands, put a hand behind his head, and put my forehead on his.  I PUSHED the remnants I could reach into him.  He immediately looked better, but I must not have.  I let go when his color improved.  “What did you just do?” he exclaimed.  He grabbed me as I stumbled away from him.

“Sorry to intrude,” I said.  I was punch drunk, I think.  “You looked gray.  Dorian Gray.”  I laughed. 

“Whatever you did, I’m keeping you nearby. I feel restored.  Kaffas, woman, stop giggling.”  I had fallen backwards, giggling. 

“Restoring the painting!” I chortled.

“Solas, I think we broke her.”  Dorian sounded concerned.

“Anol shalom, Anol sheh lay konnud de ne um Sol,” I sang.  Healing to me and freely to you from the sun.  Gladiator soundtrack, the theme, called Now We Are Free.  It’s a personal conlang by Enya, but from the guys’ faces, I think it was at least partially intelligible.  I patted Dorian’s cheek.  “Son of Man, look to the sky, Lift your spirit set it free.  Someday you’ll walk tall with pride, Son of Man, a man in time you’ll be.”  God.  I was singing Tarzan.  To Dorian.  I’m blushing looking back.  I didn’t notice at the time. Garalen and Elias both looked scared and concerned.

I laid down on the ground, heedless of the filth.  I waved a hand.  “You can go now.  I’ll wait for my ride home.”  I think I started crying at that point, because someone brushed my cheeks with wet fingers.  “It stinks here.  I want to go home.”  I quietly sang another song, “So I’m waiting for my ride up into the sky, and I will meet you there.”  Black Tide, Into the Sky.

“Ir abelas, da’asha,” I heard.  “Sleep.”  Something touched my forehead.  I think I gave a lot away to anyone paying attention, but no one has mentioned anything so far.

To be continued…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Black Tide - Into the Sky with lyrics https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=achFJt7iNew


	70. Day 61, Some month I don’t frickin know 2, 9:41 Dragon, part two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mass exodus, fire in the sky, and losses.

Day 61, Some month I don’t frickin know 2, 9:41 Dragon, part 2:

My enforced sleep was dreamless.  I awoke suddenly, cradled in someone’s arms, Solas’ face in front of mine.  “It’s time to wake, da’asha.”  I realized we were on horses, moving.  “You must be strong for your people.”  I was feeling more clear-headed.  Solas was leaning over Dorian’s horse.  Garalen and Elias were riding double on Dorian’s other side, looking worried.

I nodded at Solas, sitting up a bit more.  Dorian shifted me.  I looked at him. “I’m sorry I grabbed at you like that.  It was intrusive.”

“My darling Chrysopal, if you must intrude like that every time I cast, feel free.  I’m the only one besides Ser Solas here who is not feeling the effects of a great work.”  He took a breath.  Putting one hand on my chin, he tilted my head until I was looking in his eyes.  “Stay away from Tevinter, Chrissy.  Someone would steal you and use you up.”  His voice was joking, but his eyes were serious.

“I’m not sure what happened.  I still feel a bit dizzy.”

Garalen spoke.  “You overdid it again, Chrissy.  You’ve got to stop.”

“And the Templars say I’m not a mage, not a mage, not a mage.  Over and over they tell me.”

Dorian chuckled.  “I think they’re wrong.  I’m not sure what you were doing, but it was definitely fade work.  Odd, I don’t feel you now.”

“That’s because I refuse to itch.”

“Excuse me?”

“Mages.  They itch when I’m around them.  It’s like they can’t plug the holes they punch.  Templars are worse.  It’s like taking a bath in icewater.”

“Speaking of Templars, there was a small group that tried to take you from us.”

Garalen piped up with “Andrew.” 

Elias continued, “and the other two.”

I looked up at Dorian.  “If you get tired of carrying me, I’d be safe with them.”

“If you no longer wish to be carried in front of Dorian, I will put you in front of me.  I have no intention of handing you to Templars, friends or no.”  Solas sounded stern, and it made me giggle.  I was still not quite normal.

I sat up a bit straighter.  I had to pull myself together.  I’d figure out what was going on later.  Looking around, there were no other mages close.  We were in a little group by ourselves.  Most of the mages looked too tired to investigate anything weird, and Andrew would waylay any extraneous Templars.  These two already knew I was different.  So I just closed my eyes, and breathed.

Dorian cursed.  “What are you doing?  What’s she doing?”

Garalen calmly said, “Recovering.  Leave her alone and she’ll be fine by the time we get back.  Well, sort of fine.”

I opened one eye.  “I was meditating for a moment, Dorian.  I can stop if you like.”

“No, no, I’m finding all this fascinating.  Remind me to be a knight in shining armor to all the pretty girls I see.  I learn so much!”

I smiled at him and went back to what I was doing.  I pushed the hurt down to where it wouldn’t interfere with what was coming next.  My eyes popped open.  CRAP.  They were coming.  Tonight.  It was only midday.  I sat up straighter again.  Dorian shifted me a little to the side.

“Garalen, did I remember to tell everyone to go easy on the servings?  Get the blankets up to the Chantry?  Did we move those last few jars of fireballs?  Did we move the kitchen supplies to the wagons?  Did we move the wagons?  Does Josie have Laura?  Shit, I dropped the threads again.  Do you know where my go bag is?  I need my notes.”

“Chrissy, it’s under control.  We’ll handle it.”

Solas glanced at me.  “You didn’t want the alcohol gone for the elven girls.”

“That was one reason.  An important one.”

“Chrysopal.”

“You are not my father.  Don’t take that tone with me.”

“And you say you don’t deceive.”

“Nothing I have said is untrue.”

“Much as listening to you two argue like children is entertaining, we might want to consider our image as we ride into Haven.  It is just ahead,” Dorian interjected.  Garalen coughed, obviously covering up a laugh.

As we rode into camp, people swarmed the horses.  The forge guys were apparently helping, or maybe everyone was helping.  Anyway, Wulfgang was suddenly next to our horse, between Dorian and Solas.  “Hand me Little Bit, and you can get down easier, my Lord.” 

I reached out my arms for Wulf, and he grabbed me, setting me on my feet.  I wasn’t quite steady.  Garalen called out to him.  “She overdid it.  Ethelathe is ordered clear until morning, so do you have somewhere to take her?”

“I’ll handle it.”  He started to pick me up.

“I am not a sack of potatoes!”

“You are today, Bit.”  And he picked me up anyway!

“Kaffas!”  It was rather pleasant to curse in Tevene.  That word really works, the hard K pushing anger out.

Garalen looked surprised.  “So is that the way to handle her? Ignore her completely and do what needs doing?”

Elias looked at her.  “I wouldn’t try it.  I’ve seen her mad.”

Solas was asking Garalen why Ethelathe had been cleared when I was whisked away.

Thinking about it now, I understand why there weren’t more mages in on the fight at Haven.  Half of them could barely walk, and the other half were in no condition to fight.  Also thinking about it, Dorian being in fine fettle for the fight this evening, should the Herald choose him, is now explained.  Maybe I am canon after all.

To continue, everyone basically gathered on the steps where we see the party in game.  Herald boy stood up on the dais part between Threnn and Leliana and said about forty bazillion too many words about how wonderful it was to have closed the breach and thanking everyone for all their help and even the little people did their part and it wasn’t just mages and blah blah blah.  The (adulterated) wine was poured.  The instruments came out.  The food was brought.  My elves were happy.

I was not.  I knew it was coming.  They’d ensconced me near the chantry, my forge Uncles, threatening to sit on me if I moved.  I couldn’t get anything done.  They wouldn’t let me “worry” about anything.  If I had a concern, it was “Don’t worry”.  There’s going to be an attack, fire in the sky!  And I can’t tell them yet.  Helpless is bad.  At least as darkness fell, no one was more than tipsy.

The runner came up.  Armies in the hills.  Shocker, right?  I snagged the nearest person with pointy ears.  They were all mine.  I didn’t know her name, but I said, “I need Eadras.  Please, get him for me?”  She curtsied and ran off.  He came up quickly.  “Eadras.  My bad feeling, remember?”  He nodded.  “Get them.  Get them to the Chantry as quickly as possible.  It’s about to start.  Fire in the sky, Eadras, and hell raining down.  I’ve seen it.”

The guys around me seemed rather calm.  I looked at them.  “We gathered our stuff already.  Harritt’s gone back for his hammer.  It must have fallen out of his bag.  We listened, Bit, when you talked.  You seemed so sure something would happen,” Enborr grumbled at me.

Alex nodded.  “Every time you’ve made a recommendation, it’s turned out good.  We weren’t going to dismiss you.”  I’m not sure them having such faith in me is a good thing.  I mean, they were calmly sitting on the wall, just waiting.

I smiled a moment later, though. Elves being ubiquitous, invisible, and interchangeable has worked in our favor again.  The mage children were herded by Philomena and Marta into the Chantry for “a treat”.  Stephen and Laura, and all nine tranquil, were with them.  I knew Dee, Dum, and Daniel were already safely inside.  We’d arranged some sweets earlier.  Soon after, most of the spent mages and other non-combatants followed.

It wasn’t even half an hour later when the uncles herded me inside.  I could hear the fighting outside soon after.  I opened my SELF to look at my threads.  Solas grabbed my hand.  “Not now, Da’asha.”  I was startled enough to stop.  “Not in a battle.  Never in a battle.  Take the children downstairs.  Go!”  I hadn’t even known he was there.

I listened to him and kept my SELF closed.  Would that I hadn’t.  I might have known.  I herded the children downstairs, with each one grabbing a sack or a bag or a box to carry.  The older ones helped with the younger ones.  We heard something hit the upper floors of the chantry.  We were way too many people crammed in the basement of the chantry.  Probably two hundred plus noncombatants or injured.  People were running and screaming up on the main floor, but we kept the children calm as best we could.

I don’t know how long it was when Cole came down the stairs half-carrying Rod whoever he was.  More people followed.  The man gasped out instructions, and a large portion of the back wall of the main cell opened into a dark tunnel.  I wasn’t doing too well, I guess, because my biggest thought was “where are the horses?”

I and the other adults started dashing around gathering what we could carry/stuff in the hallway that Roderick revealed.  A soldier had run ahead in the tunnel.  “It lets out about 500 feet ahead, near the tree line!” 

The commander had appeared from somewhere.  “Tell Dennet!  Get those horses moving.  And thank whoever moved the wagons when we find them.  Everyone, grab something and get moving.  Through the tunnel.  QUICKLY!”  And the lion roars again.  It was hectic.  Garalen had caught up with me.  As we emerged from the tunnel, I was trying to get a headcount, and she kept moving me ahead.  I had to know, but she wasn’t letting me figure anything out.  We were cresting the mountain when we heard roaring and thunder and soldiers caught up to us.  The inner circle caught up to us.  We all turned as Haven was covered in snow.  A dragon flew off into the night.

There was cheering.  And then there was weeping.  The battle was over.  I opened my SELF to check my people.  I knew Sam would be still in Haven, hurt but essentially okay.  He’d catch up, and we’d wait for him.  I wasn’t prepared to feel two others stuck there, in pain. Dying.  It was Tanya and Davhalla.  I knew them by name. I knew their lights.  I was wading through the snow back to Haven when Garalen hauled me back, keeping me from going that way.  “NO!” she yelled over the noise and wind.  “Andrew!” she called.

“They’re still alive!”

“They’re not!  They’re dead, they just don’t know it yet.  Close whatever you do OFF, Ethelathun!  Not everyone reaches sanctuary!”  As she spoke, the connection with Davhalla went out.  I think I screamed.  I reached for her, but she was gone.  Like she’d never been.  Tanya winked out soon after.  I must have said something.  “Be thankful they went fast, my Lady.  Now close yourself off.  PLEASE!”  I did.  I didn’t have much of a choice.  A much stronger pair of arms had me in the air, turning me and setting me back down facing the other way. 

Andrew held me as I cried.  I’d felt them DIE.  They were lost to me, two people I held dear.  It didn’t take long to be ready to move.  The tears froze on our faces as we climbed.  It had been spring down in Haven, but it was winter in the mountains still.  I put my overshirt on one of the human children.  Not one of mine, but shivering. My jacket had already gone to another.  Andrew removed his surcoat and wrapped a young teen in it.

The preparations the elves had done came in extremely handy.  The wagons had been packed “to get everything out of the way”.  Even some of the tents had managed to come along.  I’m not sure how we managed that.  Threnn claimed credit for it all, but I don’t think Josie believed her.  I know Leliana looked at us when Threnn spoke about her planning ability.  Every mage child and most of everyone else carried at least one bag, stuffed full of clothing, blankets, go rations, first aid kits, and everything else we could salvage.  At some point I’d even gotten my go bag on my back.  That’s how I have my journal and my pen.  And my clothes and vest.

We trekked all night, hoisting the children onto the wagons when they faltered.  It was nearly half-light when we reached the next valley over.  We set up the tents, herding the people who needed rest into them to sleep.  After most of the people were asleep, I moved off to be alone, slipping away from Garalen and Andrew.

I opened my SELF, counting threads.  I was down to 49 elves, my 3 mages including Renee, Solas, Dorian, Varric, all my forge guys. SEGGRIT.  Adan, Mineave.  They made it.  Inquisibabe rescued them.  I was missing several human people, but I had Cook, Eliza and Joan.  Hannah, the sew lead, wasn’t there anymore.  Niles was missing.  Andrew’s buddy Chris was gone.  We’d lost about a sixth of Ethelathe.  I could feel inquisibabe struggling.  Stubborn, he is.  Refusing to give in.  I sent strength along the thread.  I think. I hope it helped him.  He’s not far behind us.  I closed my SELF.  I didn’t want to know any more.  Solas would keep track of Inquisibabe’s whereabouts.  I moved back toward the camp, but still away from it, and slept.


	71. Day 61, Some month I don’t frickin know 2, 9:41 Dragon, part three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The end of one story, and the beginning of another?

Day 61, Some month I don’t frickin know 2, 9:41 Dragon, part 3:

I missed the arrival of Inquisibabe, but the singing woke me up this evening.  It’s late on the 2nd.  Whatever month this is.  Solas took him off for their little talk.  I was hovering around the edge of camp.  I was staying away from my people.  They were sad, and angry, and had lots of uncomfortable feelings.  When you look up in the sky, you can see the scar.  It’s lit up, just a bit, even at night, but it feels closed.

You know, you can’t die when you want to.  At first light, Solas is going to have Sam lead us all to Skyhold.  I don’t know if I can face them.  We’ve lost so many.  If I hadn’t lost the threads, would they still be here?  If I’d prepared better?  Maybe I should have told them about the fire in the sky earlier.  I didn’t think it was a good idea at the time, but perhaps I was wrong.  Over the last day, at least twenty of MY people have been lost, not to mention the rest.  How can I make up for that? 

I got up.  I knew one thing I could do.  I gathered wood.  It dug into my arms, but I welcomed that.  An armful for each one lost, in a pile.  My hair had mostly come down, but I took it the rest of the way.  I looked at the knife Eadras had given me, so long ago it seems.  One slice, and the strands fell.  I laid my hair atop the pyre.  I said goodbye to the ones I knew, and goodbye to the ones who only knew me.  And then I said goodbye to my little girl.  I took a deep breath, and I set it on fire.  Most mages start with fire. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm hoping to pick up the threads tomorrow. Give me a little leeway, because I've used a whole box of tissues today. Look for a new entry in this series.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Resilience](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7322896) by [Lyricalvillain](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lyricalvillain/pseuds/Lyricalvillain)
  * [Greek Tragedy](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9908336) by [realbojangles](https://archiveofourown.org/users/realbojangles/pseuds/realbojangles)
  * [Tales of tattered Souls](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11218386) by [Sternenstaub](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sternenstaub/pseuds/Sternenstaub)
  * [Suledin](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12252438) by [Raicheda](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raicheda/pseuds/Raicheda)
  * [Darkens The Sun](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13821594) by [LadyHawke361](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyHawke361/pseuds/LadyHawke361)




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